


Love, Me

by Dreamer_88



Category: Shefani, The Voice (US) RPF
Genre: AU, Angst, F/M, Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2019-10-18 22:42:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 98,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17589800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamer_88/pseuds/Dreamer_88
Summary: Running Running as fast as we canDo you think we'll make it(Do you think we'll make it)Running, keep holding my handSo we don't get separated





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story starts with Blake and Gwen meeting in 2002. Blake is at the brink of breaking out and becoming a country music star, while Gwen is navigating through fame as she's in the prime of No Doubt. Neither one knew of each other's existence before they met. I have to warn you guys that for the sake of this story, I'm taking liberties on the exact timeline and will be bending it a bit to benefit the storyline I've thought out. Also a huge thanks to Bea—without her this idea wouldn't have come to fruition.

October, 2002.  
   
   
The bar sounds like hundreds of people singing in loud voices, all of them competing with the unusual rock music that dominates the atmosphere. The crowd is primarily young; college students, maybe early grads. There are a bunch of middle aged people hurdled up in the front, standing alongside what he assumes to be a stage. Blake forces his way through most of the crowd, skimming his way past warm bodies so he can order a drink. Before the drink is even halfway poured, he feels someone melt their bodies from behind and he knows Brandon has arrived.  
   
“Glad to see you could make it.” Brandon says before sitting down next to him, patting the wooden bar excitedly. “You need to get out more.”  
   
Blake frowns, this guy only has been managing him for a little over a year but somehow has been able to become one of his closest friends outside the industry too.  
   
“I’m out all the time, performing in bars, clubs, you name it.”  
   
“I’m talking outside of work, man.” Brandon retorts quickly, shutting down whatever Blake wanted to say next. “As a manager, I can’t tell you how happy I am you like to work hard, but as a friend…. play more.”  
   
He rolls his eyes and closes them for a moment, picturing a quieter setting and better life in general. Don’t get him wrong, he loves what he does and his newfound success with his first hit single has been nothing short of incredible, but his career success seems to be balancing itself out with his shitty personal life.  
   
“It’s just not the best time right now.” Blake says after having opened his eyes again, his manager looking at him expectantly.  
   
“You mean you’d rather be sitting around at home, depressed and drunk, doing nothing? Yeah, that sounds like one hell of a party.”  
   
“ _Actually_.” Blake follows up Brandon’s statement annoyed. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”  
   
“Well, tough luck. You’re staying and you’re going to have a great time.”  
   
Blake leans on the bar, his head lolling to one side as he eyes his friend. The smell of alcohol is heavily present and penetrates his nostrils involuntarily. He’s been drinking so much lately, trying to drink himself out of the funk his freshly broken off engagement threw him in, he’s surprised he can even smell the overwhelming sent of liquor.  
   
“What are we here to do again?” Blake asks, eventually just giving in.  
   
“To see.” Brandon corrects him.  
   
“What?”  
   
“What we’re here to _see_. Not do.”  
   
Blake waves his hand in a dismissive manner.  
   
“Alright, ‘see’. What are we here to _see_?”  
   
Somewhere in the back of his mind he registers an answer from his manager, but the mesmerizing voice coming from center stage makes him suddenly aware of what he’s here to see, needing no verbal answer. It doesn’t take him long for his attention to fully shift from inside his head to the band in front of him—and not just the band, but the lead singer in particular.  It was impossible to miss the low and heavy base line that filled the entire room, and the comradery between all musicians up on that stage, but the lead singer—he’s sure he’s never seen anything like her before. The way she commands the crowd with an aggressive, yet incredibly appealing stage presence and persona unknown to him. The way she moves her body to every note of music that’s being played is beyond anything he can explain.  
   
Her pants are loose and saggy, but for some strange reason hug her tightly around the waist. Most of her stomach is out and it allows him to view the flattest, most sexy stomach he’s ever laid his eyes on. He thinks for a moment she’s making eye contact with him and almost starts coughing in panic, but before he can totally lose it, her attention seems to shift completely away from him. He’s torn between feeling a rush of relief and broken despair; he suddenly _wants_ her to see him.  
   
The crowd becomes putty in her hands instantly, and by now are all equally freaking out. There’s not one person in the room who’s not mesmerized by that magnetic force; her hips swaying to every beat. At some point, he thinks she’s moving to solely the claps and sounds of the audience. Music seems to transcend her somewhere else, while she transcends him right there with her. It leaves him with a strange sense of belonging.  
   
“Hey dude…”  
   
He almost didn’t hear it, his eyes still glued to the platinum blond goddess up on stage, but after the second time he manages to turn his head towards his friend.  
   
Brandon looks at him knowingly, a smirk plastered steady on his face. There’s no way he couldn’t have noticed the way he’d been eye fucking the girl in front of him, but Blake desperately hoped that whatever teasing was coming, would be short and to the point.  
   
“What?” Blake asks innocently after finding some of his bearings.  
   
“Are you even still breathing?”

He rolls his eyes but has to cough a few times to get his throat to work; his mouth beyond dry.  
   
“I thought you wanted me to see this band. I’m looking.”  
   
The way the words escaped him sounded rather strong, much stronger than he feared the words would leave him. He’s quietly priding himself for getting it together at least a little bit.  
   
Brandon smirks. “Good, seems like my job is done here.”  
   
That gets Blake’s attention as he reluctantly tears his eyes away from the gorgeous singer.  
   
“What do you mean ‘your job is done here’?”

“I’m only here to make sure you came. I gotta run.”  
   
“Oh hell no—” Blake shakes his head, ready to fight this tooth and nail, but his friend gives him no chance.  
   
Brandon stands up swiftly, patting Blake’s shoulder supportively. “Just enjoy the show. Enjoy yourself.”  
   
Blake swallows roughly, nodding in a bit of silent defeat as he can feel his friend walk away; leaving him alone to drown in his self-pity and ongoing spell this beautiful stranger is weaving around him from a few feet away. He plays with the glass still clammed between both hands as his eyes once again find the singer up on stage.  
   
There’s an unfamiliar wave of disappointment that hits him when she announces their last song. He wants to formulate an official complaint at having this band only perform two songs, but this is only an after party, merely meant to probably get their name out there—it’s not like he’s catching one of their shows.  
   
The next song that starts playing is undeniably slower and much more emotional. Her voice goes from wild and precise to painful and dark and it has his mind reeling. Every word feels like a sucker punch to his gut and he’s almost tempted to run out of the door. There’s no way he’s in a space where he’s capable of hearing these words she’s singing, but he can’t get himself to leave even if he tried.  
   
He’s sure by the end of the song, he actually might’ve stopped breathing and he desperately craves some air. The captivating look of the girl he knows absolutely nothing about and the heartbreakingly honest lyrics she just sung, both have him unsteady on his feet. He doesn’t know how he finds his way through the now even more excited crowd, but he pushes his way through until he reaches the exit, leaning heavily against the outside wall.  
   
His hands ball up in fists as he thinks about how his manager left him here alone, fending for himself, when it’s so obvious he’s not capable of doing that right now; there’s a reason why he’s hiding himself away at home most days.  
   
He winces when he hears the door behind him open again, a loud wave of people talking making it to his ears until he’s left with quiet again—assuming the door has closed.  
   
Despite his brain being flooded with alcohol and heartbreak, there’s no way he could miss the sight in front of him. Even with her head turned away from him, there’s no way he wouldn’t recognize her anywhere. Her proximity is nauseating yet comforting, and he’s sure he’s losing his mind when his legs involuntarily drag him closer to her.  
   
She spots him before he gets there, his breath catching in his throat as she looks at him without a shadow of a doubt. There’s nowhere to hide now. The look in her eyes as he comes to a stop in front of her is one of confusion and amusement, both working to make him even more nervous.  
   
“That was…. _wow_.”  
   
Turns out he’s lost the ability of being articulate, alongside his ability to keep cool. His hand gestures wordlessly what he can’t seem to verbalize and he sighs in relief when she gets it.  
   
“Thank you.” Her speaking voice is incredibly different from the one he heard earlier on stage, but it’s just as sweet and alluring. “I saw you watching us out there.”  
   
Fuck. Ofcourse she saw him watching her like a creep, getting completely lost in what she was doing up there.  
   
“Uhm yeah, sorry, I was just—” He’s at a loss for words suddenly, having her full attention instead of having to share it with every partygoer inside has him fidgeting nervously. “I’ve just never seen a show like that, especially not here.”  
   
He wants to say he’s never seen anyone like _her_ ; so gifted, so incredibly special—but he manages to keep that bottled up, not wanting to scare her away.  
   
“That makes sense, this is our first time playing here.” She says sweetly, ignoring how she must notice his nerves.  
   
“You don’t seem like you’re from here, what brings you to this place?”  
   
She smiles wickedly, biting her lip. “Rule number one when you’re trying to make it; you don’t turn a gig down. Ever.”  
   
“I thought this was an after party of some sorts?”  
   
She appears nervous all the sudden, uneasy.  
   
“Kinda. We had our official gig at Broadway here today. I guess you could call this our celebration, yeah.”  
   
“You and your band must be a pretty big deal then, huh?”  
   
She shakes her head slowly. There’s an expression that colours her features so quickly, he can’t make out the meaning of it in time.  
   
“Not really.” She says softly. “We just like to play wherever we can. We caught a bit of a lucky break here and the people in this town were nice enough to throw us this special evening. Nothing more, nothing less.”  
   
“So why are you not in there enjoying your evening?”  
   
The pain he saw on her features while performing that last song, come back in full effect at his question.  
   
“I should probably head back inside soon, you’re right. I was kind of expecting someone to be here, hence why I’m standing here outside with _you_ instead of spending time with my friends inside—and, oh my god I have no idea why I’m telling you all this.”  
   
He realizes she just spilled much more than she was willing to share, and also realizes she’s expecting company and he’s crossing every boundary right now.  
   
“Don’t worry, consider it forgotten. Do you want me to leave?”  
   
She frowns at his question, stepping a little closer to him and he feels a bit faint of his feet.  
   
“Why would I want that?”  
   
He swallows loudly. “You said you are expecting someone.”  
   
“I said I _was_ expecting someone. The person didn’t show.”  
   
Apparently, her brazen honesty is not solely reserved for the stage and he can’t do anything but admire it. She’s a mystery to him nonetheless; her ethereal presence making it hard to look away—demanding attention whether she’s performing in front of a crowd or talking to you in private. There’s also a hint of darkness in the way she speaks and the lyrics she sings, but none of that comes out in the way she addresses you. He thinks of her as the prettiest book; one he hasn’t gotten to read yet, but can’t wait to get more acquainted with.  
   
“I’m sorry.” He says hoarsely, his accent coming out much thicker as he becomes incredibly affected by her.  
   
She smiles. “I’m not. What’s your name?”  
   
His eyes widen as he realizes he hasn’t even introduced himself yet.  
   
“My name is Blake. Blake Shelton.”  
   
She takes his hand and shakes it, his breath catching once again at the physical contact.  
   
“I’m Gwen.”  
   
She doesn’t mention her last name and he wonders why, but he doesn’t push it. There’s so much he doesn’t know yet about her, he figures her last name will just have to be added to that list.  
   
“You look like a Gwen.” He teases.  
   
A smile pushes past her glossy lips, her head cocking to the side.  
   
“What do you suppose a Gwen looks like?”  
   
Something about the mood seems to be rapidly changing, the way she’s looking at him something you only ever experience once in a blue moon.  
   
“Radiant—divine. Someone with a presence that could captivate millions.”  
   
He watches her swallow loudly at his words.  
   
“Is that how you see me?”  
   
There was something so childlike in the way she asked, an innocence she shouldn’t possess when it comes to her own qualities.  
   
“You don’t?”  
   
She shakes her head once. “I don’t think anyone sees me that way.”  
   
“I’d say every person in _there_ disagrees with that.” He cocks his head towards the bar they just left, the attendees heard even outside.  
   
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “It’s weird thinking of myself like that, I guess.”  
   
“It’s only weird if you let it be weird.” He says the words with no intention to follow them up, but when her big brown eyes look up at his questionably, he’s useless to deny her further elaboration. “I’m not saying be cocky—but let’s just look at what you did in there; every person was hanging on your lips, not just because of the way you sounded, but also because of the way you look, the way you command attention. I can’t begin to imagine how much you must demand from yourself and what you let other demand of _you_ , but from what I could see, what you gave in return was way more than anyone could ever ask for. You’re so fiercely you, it makes it easier for all of us to be ourselves just a little bit more.”  
   
She takes a little step back, and for a second he thinks he crossed a line, said too much. Instead of leaving like he thought she would, she stays put, biting her lip as he watches her eyes get teary.  
   
“You’re from here, right?”  
   
The change of subject throws him off, but he finds it within him to answer regardless.  
   
“Uhm, yeah. Why?”  
   
“Did you come here by car?”  
   
He squints at her, nodding. “Yeah.” He affirms.  
   
She walks closer to him suddenly, getting rid of the distance she put there before. She’s standing so close to him now he can smell her flowery scent, her chest now almost pressed against his.  
   
“Can you drive me somewhere pretty, Blake?”  
   
Her proximity is absolutely maddening. All it would take for him was to lean down and tilt her head up slightly, and oh god she could save him. If he’d take one more step, she’d fall into his chest completely, feeling her breath right over his heart.  
   
He swallows. “You want me to take you out of here?”  
   
She looks up at him wickedly, her damn lip still caught between her teeth.  
   
“I want you to take me somewhere special. Just us. Can you do that?”  
   
There’s so much he thinks he can do when it comes to her, but words seem to fail him as this gorgeous human stands before him so willingly.  
   
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay? It’s your party— “  
   
“There will be more.” She cuts him off efficiently. “I’m sure I won’t see the guys until way later anyways, doing God knows what out there.” She bites her lip anticipatory. “ _So_ , are you in or out?”  
   
Gwen presses against him more firmly, her chest now fully pressed against him. He’s not sure why he’s even pretending to think it over, when the answer has been laying on the tip of his tongue even before he ever spoke a word to her.  
   
“Yes.” He says, followed by a sharp breath.  
   
She smiles almost victoriously.

“Great. Let me just run back inside to say my goodbyes and I’ll meet you right back here, okay?”  
   
He can do nothing but nod as he remains standing there as he watches her run back inside. There’s a part of him that’s convinced she won’t come back out, the universe just playing a cruel trick on him. Still, he finds himself not moving an inch, bouncing back and forth on each leg as the chill of the evening whips through his bones.  
   
Just as he’s starting to lose hope for good, the door swings open once again and Gwen comes walking out with a big smile on her face. She’s changed into a different coat, and he doesn’t blame her; the weather is not treating them kindly at all. In her right hand, she holds a bottle she must’ve taken from inside.  
   
“I figured this might come in handy.” She replies smugly, pressing the bottle into his hand.  
   
He inspects the bottle with faux criticism, teasing her as he hands her the bottle back.  
   
“I’d expect a band of your league to have more expensive taste in liquor.”  
   
“New rule.” She says, her shoulder bumping into him. “During our time together, we won’t mention the band anymore.”  
   
That gets him to raise his eyebrows.  
   
“Why?”

“The band is my everyday life. I want you to get to know me outside of that.” There’s a sadness to her words and when she speaks again, he finds out why. “No one ever seems to want to.”  
   
He feels bad for playing into her internal fears, confirming what she perceives to be the truth. He only ever meant to build her up, tell her how mesmerizing she was on stage, but there’s obviously a whole other being ready to be let out and shown to the world. To him.  
   
“From now on, I won’t mention it again.” He says in a promise. “I won’t even ask the name.”  
   
She giggles in response. “My God, you really didn’t come here to see us, did you?”  
   
“’M sorry. But no.”  
   
She laughs out loud at that, her head thrown back. He’s pretty sure he’s never seen a better sight than Gwen-who remains surname less- laughing with her whole entire body.  
   
He basks into the closeness he feels when with each step her body bumps into his. The walk to his car is way too short as he silently curses the night when they get there already. Her eyes roam over the large pick-up truck, her hands smoothing down the car door exterior.  
   
“Why am I both surprised and not surprised to find out you drive a car like this?” She asks.  
   
He looks at her intensely. “I don’t know. Why are and aren’t you?”  
   
“You look like you could totally be from here; a real country guy. So I guess a car like this would fit you, right?”  
   
He chuckles, but gives in. “Alright, yeah. What else?”  
   
“Well, it’s a big car.” She observes matter of factly. “Not one any person could just afford.”  
   
He almost staggers at the way she reads him, the car indeed being on his list for a while. He knows success is a fleeting thing, he can’t get ahead of himself just because things seem to be going well right now, but he couldn’t help but indulge in one pricey investment as his first hit single rolled out.  
   
“What do you do?” She asks next, bringing him back to Earth.  
   
“Uhm, I write a little.” He says dismissively, feeling strangely good about being around someone who truly has no clue about who or what he is whatsoever. “Mostly just a lot of savings that went into this thing.”  
   
He brings the subject back to the car, and for now, it seems to work.  
   
“I like it.”  
   
He doesn’t know why such a warmth spreads through his body at her words, her average height making it a bit of struggle to get in. Once he’s sure she’s seated, he closes the door for her before making his way to the other side.  
   
“Do you know where you’re taking me, yet?” She asks curiously.  
   
He starts the car slowly, the smile on his face one he hasn’t seen in months.  
   
“Yeah I do.”  
   
*  
   
A deep sense of serenity overcomes him as he stares in rapture at the expanse of black that lay before him. Rays of silver danced delicately across the water, birthed from the moonlight that made the view all the more beautiful. The only sound to be heard was the gravelling of his tires through the thick nature and the wind blowing through the large weeping willows. Bringing his car to a full stop, he’s able to take in the truly wondrous view.  
   
“Take this.” He says, giving her the bottle she took from the party.  
   
She takes it from him, frowning. “Where are we going?”  
   
“Out.” He replies, smiling.  
   
He’s out of the car in seconds, walking towards the rear of the car as he moves down the hinged board. He reaches back as far as he can, retrieving the large blanket he knew he had somewhere back there. It’s seconds later he hears the passenger’s door open and shut, before Gwen is standing next to him.  
   
“Blake, this place is gorgeous. Where are we?”  
   
He smiles to himself, happy about taking her here out of all places. The rhythm of the outside world brings him peace as he faces her.  
   
“It’s a part of the lake no one ever really visits. I get why—during the day it’s not the best view, but at night….” He holds her gaze strongly. “At night it’s damn near a dream though. I figured if you wanted to see something pretty yet rare, there’s no place better.”  
   
She smiles sweetly. “Aren’t we gonna be cold?”  
   
“I have a blanket, you have the booze. I think we’ll be fine.”  
   
“But where— “  
   
“—Have you ever hung out on a tailgate, Gwen?”  
   
She laughs, her hand landing on his shoulder. “Do I look like a girl who has?”  
   
His response is a pat on the board, pulling himself back on it. He waits for her to move, which she does slowly but gracefully, her smaller frame pulled up on the tailgate next to him. She looks at him expectantly and her lack of experience with something he’s so familiar with makes him smile. He motions for her to slide back just a little bit more, making sure to position her with the best view. He drapes the blanket over them both, it being big enough to reach both with plenty of fabric.  
   
“Comfortable?”  
   
She nods with her eyes closed, before opening them again. “This is perfect.”  
   
Sitting with her shoulder to shoulder shouldn’t feel this right, fit this well. She seems to sense the shift in his demeanour as she suddenly becomes more aware of his proximity.  
   
“We don’t have glasses.” She says suddenly, eyeing the bottle of liquor with a smile.  
   
He realizes they indeed don’t have any and before his brain can scold him for forgetting, he acts out on his most primal impulses. Desire comes creeping up on him like some unfiltered, untameable force and the hand that was first safely laying on top of the blanket covering his knees and beginning of his thighs, is now slowly taking the bottle from her elegant hands.  
   
She looks at him in confusion, but anticipation nonetheless. He motions for her to scoot even closer and he’s somewhat surprised when she does so without further prompting. His other hand lifts gently to her face, two fingers under her chin tipping her head back slightly.  
   
His voice is a low whisper when he speaks. “Open.”  
   
Her tongue darts out to lick at her bottom lip before she complies.  
   
The moment her lips form a small ‘o’, he carefully pours a little of the bottle’s content in her mouth, watching intensely as she swallows the tiny sip. His eyes become hooded when he watches her throat convulse, her tongue once again darting out to moisten her lips when he holds back the bottle.  
   
“We don’t need glasses.” His voice is nothing but a throaty rasp, his eyes still fixated on her mouth, now equally wet from her own tongue as the alcohol she just consumed.  
   
“I’m kind of sad you pulled away.” She admits softly, the air around them thickening.  
   
“Here.” He holds out the bottle for her, waiting until she grabs it out of his hold. The tension is enough to drive him mad, and he needs to create some distance before he detonates.  
   
He watches her take another swig from the bottle, her eyes sparkling with something even against the darkness of the night.  
   
“So where are you from, originally?” He asks, trying to lead them back into saver territory.  
   
“California, born and raised.” She replies immediately. “Were you born here?”  
   
He shakes his head, taking the bottle from her to indulge in a sip of his own.

“Oklahoma, born and raised.”  
   
“You’re a real cowboy guy, then.”  
   
He smiles. “You tell me?”  
   
“You are.” She affirms. “You’re charming, your chivalry is through the roof and you drive a pick-up truck. A huge one, may I add.”  
   
“If I’d known this thing would make such an impression on the lady’s, I would’ve gotten it sooner.”  
   
She huffs at that, snatching the bottle from him again.  
   
“Something tells me you don’t need a car for that.”  
   
He chuckles painfully.  
   
“You’d be surprised.”  
   
She leans her head to the side, eying him curiously. He grits his teeth at his way too sudden and honest reply. Relationships are a subject he didn’t necessarily feel like getting into. Yet, he had no doubt about it that she would ask a follow up question, and she didn’t prove him wrong.  
   
“There’s no ring on your finger, so I’m guessing you aren’t married. Girlfriend?”  
   
He shakes his head. “Ex.”  
   
“Ex-girlfriend. Is it recent?”  
   
He sits up a bit straighter, the water stretched out in front of him ever so calming. The chill of the night had stopped bothering him minutes ago; Gwen providing him with all the warmth he needs, even when she tries to read him like a book.  
   
“Ex-fiancée, actually.” He corrects her. “Broke it off three weeks ago.”  
   
“I’m sorry.”  
   
Her apology sounds genuine, her eyes looking strangely sad when he catches her gaze.  
   
“You can love someone all you want; when it isn’t right, it isn’t right. I met her when I was seventeen and thought I had it all figured out—we were right as kids, but couldn’t be more wrong for each other as adults.”  
   
She nods. “That sure does happen sometimes.”  
   
“Have you ever been engaged Gwen?”  
   
He takes notice of the way she swallows loudly, her fingers ticking on top of her blanket nervously. “No, but I’ve been in a relationship before.”  
   
“But not anymore?”  
   
“It’s complicated.”  
   
He feels like his throat is constricting to the point where it cuts off air, his face hardening a bit at her silent admission.  
   
“We’re not together anymore, it’s not like that.” She says suddenly, realizing what she’d just implied. “It’s just…. it’s kind of an on and off thing, you know? I never know where I stand when it comes to him.”  
   
“Why don’t you just ask?”  
   
“He’s never honest.”  
   
“Then why do you want him?”  
   
He’s not sure when they crossed that invisible line that told them nothing was off limits, but the honesty spewing off his lips quickly transcends into honesty of her own.  
   
“I don’t know if I do.” She admits, her face betraying how new and personal that admission truly was. “He’s all I’ve ever known.”  
   
“Maybe it’s time to broaden your horizon.”  
   
She’s staring out over the lake, her nerves seemingly calmed, but he sees her. He can tell how thin her façade is; the cracks and tears that threaten to spill over while she wears her armour like the tightest fitting dress. For now, he thinks he can take her walls build up like a fortress; he’ll take whatever she gives him because he knows it’s worth the moment she drops them.  
   
“I’m here in Nashville, sitting on a tailgate with a guy who’s a total stranger to me.” She looks at him then, smiling softly. “Something tells me I’m on the right way to doing so.”  
   
He swallows and forces his gaze back in front of him, both getting lost in the dream that’s laid out so perfectly in front of them. His vocal cords are raw when he tries to put them to use.  
   
“I don’t think you know how much I needed to meet you tonight.”  
   
He hears more than he sees her put the bottle down, the blanket on their laps moving as she shimmies her way out of it. Both of her hands land on the edge of board, elegantly sliding herself off until her feet hit the hard ground beneath her.  
   
He looks at her confusingly, until she holds both her hands out to him.  
   
“Come on.” She nudges him, giving him the final push to take her hands and stand next to her, suddenly more aware of the cold again.  
   
“Where are we going?”  
   
“Nowhere.” She answers matter of factly. “Blake, have you ever danced in front of a lake at night, without any music?”  
   
He wants to laugh at her, but there’s no hint of a joke on her features at all.  
   
His eyes widen. “Are you serious?”  
   
“Very. Have you?”  
   
He laughs, still confused when she pushes herself firmer against him and puts his hands on each side of her hip.  
   
“No, I haven’t. Has anyone though?”  
   
“Maybe you need to broaden _your_ horizon.”  
   
He makes it a full two seconds without giving in. Her presence so close he can feel her heartbeat against his if he tries hard enough and it’s making him dizzy. He’s abandoning every moral code he put in place for himself when he grabs her hips tighter, holding her tightly against him.  
   
“I like being around you, Blake.” She whispers just loud enough for him to catch it, her arms around his neck now starting to feel like they belong there—like they always have.  
   
He doesn’t know why, but somehow the words cause him to have to swallow down a lump in his throat. He blinks hard against the onset of tears, but there’s no surprise when he finds out she took notice already.  
   
“You’re hurt.” She states, the word spoken so carefully yet so confidently.  
   
One of his hands moves off her hips and combs a stray hair out of her face. The moonlight hits her perfectly, and between the gorgeous woman in his arms and the scenery around them, this starts to feel more and more like a dream.  
   
“And you’re beautiful.”  
   
“How does that have any correlation?”  
   
He shrugs, putting his hand back on her hip. “I thought we were stating facts.”  
   
“So you _are_ hurt?”  
   
He wants so desperately to answer her, but all his senses are heightened and confused. The hurt of his engagement exploding presses heavy on his heart, but the growing lust he’s been feeling for this woman ever since laying eyes on her only grows stronger—both emotions burning him up quicker than anything ever has before.  
   
“Yes. There’s a lot to feel hurt about.” He admits eventually. “None of it seems to matter all that much right now though.”  
   
He feels her press herself even more against him, her finger tracing along his chin. Her mouth is so close it’s almost painful, the exhalation of air hitting his cheek when she speaks.  
   
“This right here matters.”  
   
He closes his eyes, the sight she makes for too much. “Yeah.”  
   
Her head leans against his chest, one of her hands playing with the curls along the nape of his neck. She’s a paradox of so many things; strong in the way she talks, but fragile in the way she lets him hold her. Her honesty is brazen, but there’s a whole layer of her he hasn’t been able to peel off yet. He wants to both treasure her like the finest piece of art, and ravish her like a wave does a rock. The passion he feels for her is blinding and it scares him so much his feet still involuntarily.  
   
“Don’t stop.” She speaks softly against his chest, still softly swaying.  
   
His mind reels with possibilities in which scenarios she could possibly say that to him also. Images of his mouth exploring the length of her calf, her knee, the inside of her thighs, making her weep in relief when he finally mouths at her through her underwear, flood his mind. He wants her hot and breathless, almost as much as he wants her to fall asleep in his arms and trust him with all the secrets she’s not even admitted to herself yet.  
   
“Nothing has ever….” He shakes his head, trailing off. “The things you make me feel, Gwen.”  
   
He swears he can feel her smiling.

“Where have you been all my life?”  
   
There’s so much he fails to understand. He doesn’t understand why so much tragedy and trauma had to be inflicted on his life, or why he went through half the things he went through, but moments like these; they might be the hardest to understand. Lightening in a bottle—moments of sheer happiness that feel way beyond what he deserves.  
   
“If you’re not careful, I might have to write some songs about you.” He teases, but his voice is weak.  
   
“You did say you’re a writer.” She retorts with quickness. “I’m kind of expecting a few.”  
   
He wonders if she writes. He wonders if she wrote any of the songs he heard her perform tonight. He remembers their pact, how he wouldn’t ask her about anything band-related, so he swallows these burning questions with his best efforts.  
   
He looks down at her, her own head looking up to meet his gaze. She smiles sweetly, cowering for a second as a cold chill runs through her. He notices immediately but she seems to want to play it off coyly. Having her this close makes him ache with memories he’s never had and long for memories he could possibly make with her.  
   
It’s not until her chills become a consistent thing, that he stills them both. Blake’s hand finds the side of her face, running his thumb along her cheekbone and presses a little until she shifts closer into his touch, her lip almost touching his knuckles.  
   
“Are you cold?”  
   
“No, it’s okay.” She lies, not letting go of her hold on him and pleading with her eyes for him to do the same.

As much as he’d love to stand here with her forever, not care about anything but the surging desires settles into the depths of his being; he doesn’t.  
   
“Come on, let’s get you warmed up.”  
   
She tries to protest once more, but Blake doesn’t budge. He leads her back to the truck, picking up the blanket as he gears up to get into the car.  
   
“Hey, no. I wanna stay outside.”  
   
He looks at her questionably, the blanket draped over his arm. “Gwen, you’re freezing.”  
   
“Just lay with me under the blanket.” Her eyes look up at him pleadingly. “I want to stay outside for just a little while longer. I just need a few more moments to soak up this view before it’s gone.”  
   
He’s still not fully convinced, but he knows he’s not immune to any of her wishes. Reluctantly, he lets her lead them back onto the tailgate, his doubts slowly evaporating when she snuggles up into his arms, her head on his chest.  
   
His arm comes around her back, encouraging her to lay fully on her side, her hand on his stomach. “Is this okay?”  
   
She nods, the movement slow and soft. “I’m warming up already, cowboy.”  
   
His hand once again finds the soft skin on her cheek, his finger tracing every slight curve and lingers a few seconds too long along the outline of her lips. Her breathing speeds up, he can feel the puff of air hitting his finger, basking in the warmth of it. He wants nothing more but to lean down and feel her lips with his own, instead of his fingers. He knows he’ll take it too far if he grants himself that, but the willing look on Gwen’s face makes it almost impossible to contain himself.  
   
Her fingers flex on their own accord; her slender digits digging softly into his ribs, sliding up the course of his stomach until it lays flatly over his heart. He’s sure she can feel the answering hitch in his breathing, his thoughts stumbling all over each other.  
   
“You’re gonna make it hard to forget you.” She mumbles softly, the heat in her voice beyond palpable.  
   
There’s so much he wants to say to that, but everything that’s truthful is not appropriate. He won’t lie to her though—not ever—so instead he stays silent.  
   
So silent he thinks he can hear his past tragedies calling for redemption.


	2. Chapter 2

_One month later._  
   
   
“This will do.” Blake says pointedly, the issue not up for debate.  
   
He’s tried to tell his team, and everyone willing to listen, that a stylist is just not meant for him. He’s country to the bone, there’s no way in hell he’ll arrive at any event in anything more than a jeans and blazer, but he’s learning the hard way that people will keep trying.  
   
“This is your first major award show. Plus, you’re not in Oklahoma or Nashville anymore.”  
   
The words make his stomach do a strange flip, his eyes going up to the mirror in front of him. The blazer fits nicely, his long legs covered in jeans don’t do much to enhance the look, but it certainty could be worse.  
   
“Tell me again why I’m going to this thing.”  
   
His manager rubs frustratedly at his temple and Blake almost feels bad for giving the man such a hard time. It’s not that he’s not grateful, there are just certain industry things he’ll never understand.  
   
“This is a great opportunity for you, Blake.” Brandon says looking up from where he’s seated. “With country music finally starting to pay attention, this could be the final push you need.”  
   
“Final push into what?”  
   
“Superstardom.”  
   
Blake winces. “Man, you know I just wanna make music, right?”  
   
Brandon waves dismissively. “As your friend—I know. As your manager—please don’t tell me that too often.”  
   
Blake gives up, knowing his efforts are going to be futile. “Okay, so how will this help me? These people have no idea who I am.”  
   
“Do you even realize the kind of exposure you’ll get from presenting at the Billboard Music Awards? You just said so yourself, people here don’t know your name yet; it’s time to change that. Put you on their radar, even if it’s just your face for now.”  
   
There’s really not much he could do about it anyways. His manager had been able to pull some strings and get him this presenting slot pretty early in the show. The next thing he knows, he’s being pulled away from his humble stack in Nashville, only to be dropped into the most crowded city he thinks he might’ve ever been to—LA definitely not his cup of tea.  
   
Not to mention, he doesn’t know how to feel about the city that only reminds him of _her_. It still hurts to think about how he woke up that morning on his tailgate, with the blanket securely draped over his frame, Gwen nowhere in sight.  
   
He didn’t think for a second they had any sort of chance, meeting Gwen solely for the purpose of a dream-like night, but he didn’t expect her to just sneak away after all that they shared that night. She’d apparently taken his car keys to let herself in and write him a note that she left in the windshield, but it didn’t do much to ease the burn.  
   
He should’ve known; this ethereal rock goddess he had the pleasure of hanging out with was not gonna stick around long enough to watch the sun come up with him, but waking up without her only made him realize how much he wished she would’ve. He doesn’t even know how she managed to get back without him, but he won’t allow himself to think about her too much.

He’s gotten it down to about an hour a day— if he’s lucky.  
   
“Just think about it like this, you’re up early in the show, after that you can bounce.” Brandon says, mistaking his silence for hesitation.  
   
“I can hear a ‘but’ in there.” Blake says with a smirk.  
   
“You’re right.” Brandon walks up to where Blake’s standing, patting his shoulder once. “If I were you, I’d stick around for the after party.”  
   
Blake almost chokes on his saliva, he hasn’t told anyone about what happened between him and Gwen, but he does know news travels fast—especially in this industry.  
   
His silence causes Brandon to speak again.  
   
“Socializing, Blake. Networking is the key to success.”  
   
*  
   
Reporters seemed to narrate on everything tonight; jumping from star to star expertly, all in search for the right item that would land them a spot on the television. He understands the purpose of these things, he’s not _that_ naïve, but there’s no reason for him to walk past these vultures on the red carpet—and so he doesn’t.  
   
He walks as quickly as he can towards his assigned seat, while still maintaining some composure; he was here for a reason after all. The little boy in him is somewhat excited to be here too; not because he has any affinity with Hollywood’s portrayal of fame, but because there’s no denying that being here means being one step closer to his dream.  
   
It’s weird how one hit single can put him on the map in country music, but still be so many hits away from being a superstar. Making it has always been his main focus; not for the acclaim and fame, but for the sheer fact that country music was his life and he would spend the rest of his making it. Maybe his manager was onto something, because the more people trickled in from the red carpet, the more he became aware of its importance and prestige. It made him want to work even harder, accomplish even more.  
   
There’s a crackling sound and then an announcement is being sent over the speakers, telling people it was time to take their seats. It doesn’t take long for the lights to finally dim and the main show to start; music, people and awards he’s never heard off all on a huge stage in front of him. Brandon was right—this is much different from what he’s used to back in Nashville.  
   
He checks the time, making sure he won’t miss his cue; needing to be backstage right on the marker to present. Knowing there are two acts before him gives him a little space to breathe.  
   
_“Ladies and gentleman, here with their hit single ‘Hey Baby’—give it up for No Doubt!”_  
   
The name brings him a sense of familiarity he can’t place, but as soon as the band appears on stage, his breath hitches, his eyes not believing their sight.  
   
It couldn’t be. It _can’t_ be.  
   
He wants to yell or cry, every nerve in his body on fire at the sudden sighting of _her_. He tried so hard to convince himself it was just some silly meeting, something that meant nothing in the grand spectrum of his life, but being in the same space as Gwen reignites that same fire he felt while holding her in his arms, that night on his tailgate.  
   
The song is a high-tempo, Jamaican influenced masterpiece, scattering the line of dancehall more than it does rock and it’s completely different from what he’s seen her perform in Nashville—but captivating all the same. Music fills the air without effort, her voice flowing around in the arena as easy as waves filling holes on the beach. He watches people react to the song, all with the same enthusiasm and it does exactly what he thought she _could_ do; reach and speak to thousands in here, but millions at home.  
   
Sensing the reaction of the crowd, the fact she’s performing here, and how comfortable and seasoned she looks up there, it becomes quite clear he wasn’t the only one not being forthcoming about his placement in the music industry. Somehow his lie seems way less untruthful. The Gwen he met in Nashville playing up the part of struggling musician, while obviously being a force to be reckoned with in the industry, stings.  
   
He focuses on the way she moves around the stage; never lingering anywhere longer than a few seconds and he wonders if that’s just who she is.  
   
She keeps the rhythm with the drums, the bass; every stump of music pumping through her veins like second nature. She loses herself in the performance completely, losing sense of everything else. She’s as honest and transparent here in front of thousands, just like she was back in that bar in front of hundreds.  
   
The music comes to a stop and he suddenly feels dizzy, leaving his spot in the arena early as he rushes backstage. If there’s one place he doesn’t feel like being right now, it’s in front of a dozen cameras waiting to catch him slipping. Backstage isn’t much better, the chaos doing nothing to ease the raging war in his mind. He doesn’t know why he’s so upset with the situation, _with her_ , but he is. There’s a hint of embarrassment too, cause my god, he had no idea who she was and wasn’t shy about it either.  
   
“Blake, you’re about ready, man?”  
   
He’s being approached left and right, the panic in his mind didn’t even let him register the fact that the second act was almost done too, his moment to shine rapidly approaching.  
   
The producers backstage coach him through it one last time, the tiny envelop pushed into his hands as he internally goes over his short monologue. He knows that when push comes to shove, he won’t have to do it all from the top of his head, the teleprompter somewhere below the stage ready to save his ass, but there’s still some pressure to not mess up in front of America.  
   
In front of Gwen.  
   
“ _5, 4, 3, 2, 1—Go Blake._ ”  
   
His mind high on adrenaline is what makes it possible for him to even step on stage, deliver the short monologue before he starts reading off the names, smiling politely as the artist eventually comes up to accept the award. He stands on the side, his heart still beating out of his chest, the whole room feeling like it’s spinning.  
   
He all but sprints off once the lights dim once more and the background music starts playing on cue. He’s been here long enough, socializing be damned—he needs to get out of here.  
   
He makes it about a few meters down the hall, on his way to his dressing room, when he stops dead in his tracks.  
   
She looks absolutely divine just like the first time when she completely stole his breath, only this time she steals it for a whole other reason. Her arm is linked with someone else, their hips touching as she puts a hand on his chest for the benefit of the look. It works too—they look like the perfect Hollywood couple.  
   
His heart drops but he knows he has no right being jealous; they shared one moment together, they didn’t even kiss. She was never _his_.  
   
He feels like he’s getting sick, the urge for some air getting heavier, but he pinpoints the exact moment her head lifts and her eyes meet his. Her gaze is set and unwavering, leaving him with little to no choice. His feet carry him over to the couple who he has no interest in formally meeting, his heart aching over this woman already.  
   
“ _Blake_.” She whispers once he’s close enough, her own voice catching in the back of her throat.  
   
The man on her arm seems confused by the moment, but oblivious to much else. Blake tries his best at keeping up this façade, but he struggles with finding the right words  
   
“ _Gwen_.”  
   
She looks back and forth between him and what Blake can only assume to be her boyfriend, biting her lip nervously.  
   
“Gavin, this is Blake. Blake this is Gavin.” She says politely, etching a rehearsed smile onto her face. “Blake and I met while I was performing in Nashville.”  
   
The way she speaks those words make him nauseous; so formal, so casual. Any hint of fondness or adoration completely erased from her tone and he wants to laugh or cry—anything to stop the numbing feeling from spreading even more.  
   
Gavin holds his hand out for him to shake. “Nice to meet you.”  
   
His British accent is the first thing that catches his attention, the disingenuous way of the words leaving his lips is second. He honestly can’t blame the guy too much; he doesn’t mean it either when he shakes his hand politely, fighting the urge to rip his arm straight off.  
   
“I didn’t know you’d be here….” Gwen starts carefully. “I thought—you said you were a writer.”  
   
He’s not ready for the way it feels to hear her call him out on his lie, the irony almost blinding.  
   
“There’s a lot you apparently don’t learn on a first meeting.”  
   
Blake can tell her exterior is silently cracking, but she hides it well. The sultry smile never leaves her lips and her half-lidded bedroom eyes are almost enough to convince you she’s truly at ease in this atmosphere. But from the way her jaw was a little too form to the hand on her lover’s arm being clutched just a little too tightly, he knew she was fighting hard to keep her composure.  
   
It’s clear that she’s good with publicity and high profile situations. She’s somewhat of an untamed animal; solitary, beautiful beyond words, primal and sexy—wild. If you were lucky she’d let you near her, let you into her jungle world but you couldn’t ever catch her—her sudden disappearance and professional attitude right now telling him as much.  
   
“Are you ready to go back out there, Gwen? The party isn’t backstage.”  
   
Another wave of anger flares up at the man he doesn’t know one bit, but he manages at a small smile in return to hers.  
   
“Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.” She speaks the words to him and he swears he hears a question in there, maybe even a promise.  
   
“Enjoy your evening.”  
   
_Her evening._

Just like back in Nashville. He’s starting to believe that everywhere she goes, becomes prominently all about her.  
   
*  
   
The door of his hotel room shuts with anything but finesse, the loud thud bouncing off the walls. He takes a deep breath, allowing for the first time that night to solely focus on breathing, nothing else. His eyes scan the larger-than-necessary room, eliciting a small chuckle from his throat. This whole night has been one reminder of his practical anonymity in the music industry still, yet his room looks like one that’d get assigned to someone more like Gwen.  
   
_Gwen Stefani. No Doubt. Over 20 million records sold._  
   
He pulled his manager aside right before leaving, a word vomit inevitable. He doesn’t know whether this new information has done him any good and part of him wonders if she’s at all offended at his ignorance about her status and accomplishments.  
   
Focusing his attention back on the room, his eyes fall onto the large king-sized bed with pure white sheets and he can do nothing but fantasize about crawling in there and not coming back out until his flight leaves the next morning. He changes in his jeans for comfortable sweats, and replaces his tidy, black blazer for an oversized t-shirt.  
   
His back colliding with the soft matrass is the first moment of relief he finds tonight, his eyes closing immediately. Images of Gwen only stay away for a few seconds, before hitting him mercilessly. Her pants much like the ones she wore the first time he met her, only this time her top was sparkly, cut right below her breast, a shiny belt matching the top as it held her pants tightly around her slim waist. Her hair was down completely, her blonde locks falling freely over her shoulder. There was something incredibly appealing about the way she seemed to disregard conventional award show looks.  
   
Two hesitant knocks on his hotel room door startle him out of thought, his hands balling up into fist at the thought of having to get up.  
   
“You got the wrong room, buddy.”  
   
His voice sounds sharp, but he doesn’t have the energy to feel bad about it. Whoever is there, couldn’t possibly be there for him, as he knows no one in this godforsaken city. It takes about five more seconds for the next two knocks to be delivered on his door.

Grunting softly, he pulls himself up in a sitting position, forcing his legs off the bed and towards the door.

“Brandon if this is you, I’m—” He swings the door open forcefully, almost toppling over as he sees who’s on the other side, his hand tightening around the knob. “ _Gwen_?”  
   
Gwen breathes loudly, her chest heaving as she’s faced with him once more. She seems nervous, a bit intimidated even but she straightens her back quickly. “Hey.”  
   
“What are you doing here?” He asks pointedly.  
   
She looks everywhere but at him in that moment, swallowing loudly. “I wanted to…. I asked around and they said you’d be here. I’m sorry.”  
   
He’s not sure whether she’s apologizing for invading his privacy and finding out his whereabouts or about leaving him without a word the first time, but all he can focus on are those big brown eyes looking at him with intent now.  
   
“It’s late, Gwen.” He says, the words meant to come out as a warning, but his voice betrays how much he appreciates her being here. No matter how he feels about the situation, he still feels more at ease in her presence.  
   
“I know.” She breathes. “I just had to see you. Can we talk?”  
   
He lowers his head, biting his lip, drawing out the moment he steps aside to let her in; he knows he will.  
   
“Come on, I didn’t go through all this trouble to find you only for you to send me home.”  
   
He looks up at her, finding her grinning. He’s not surprised to find out her pull is strong and it’s probably not hard for her to get that kind of information, and part of him feels validated that she even put in the effort. He does what he’s been meaning to do ever since he found her standing there—he steps aside, leaving the door open wide until he hears her close it behind them.  
   
“Nice room.” She says, her eyes wandering around the place.  
   
“Does your boyfriend know you’re here?”  
   
He didn’t mean for that to be the first thing to come out of his mouth, but things feel incredibly off knowing she’s not here because she wants to pick up where they left off.  
   
“I’m not doing anything wrong.” She whispers.  
   
Blake grimaces. “That doesn’t matter, Gwen. You’re in another man’s hotel room after being plastered to his side all night.”  
   
She walks closer to him, stopping only one feet away from him. Her hand moves to his chest, just resting over his heart. Blake didn’t dare to look at her, afraid to encourage her whilst also afraid to make her stop whatever she was doing. In the end, it seems like no reaction encouraged her too and her hand slides up from his chest to the side of his face. The way she’s touching him almost feels like she’s trying to memorize him, so slowly and deliberate.  
   
“What are you doing, Gwen?” He asks, his voice barely a whisper.  
   
“I thought I’d never see you again.”  
   
He sucks in a breath. “I woke up and you were nowhere to be found. What was I supposed to think?”  
   
“I’m sorry.” She whispers. “I had to go.”  
   
“You left me in some deserted place at a lake in the middle of the night— what if someone had killed me?”  
   
Gwen’s hand flies up to her mouth, stifling a laugh.  
   
“You did  _not_  just say that to me, Blake Shelton.” Her eyes widen as she giggles. “Are you always this dramatic?”  
   
“Only when I get stood up.”  
   
She drops her hand as her features sober up again.   
   
“I didn’t— I had to go.” She repeats.  
   
“You should’ve woken me.”  
   
He doesn’t know why it bothers him so much; it was only one night, he barely knew the girl.  
   
“Trust me, I wanted to.” She whispers next, the words lingering between them for a while.  
   
“I wondered if it actually happened. That night with you.”  
   
She bites her lip. “It did.”  
   
“Did it?” He shoots back immediately.  
   
Her eyebrows raise. “I was there, wasn’t I?”  
   
“And tonight you were  _here_ , with your boyfriend plastered on your arm.”  
   
The word sound bitter on his lips, the delivery of it hard and direct.  
   
“You can’t act like this.” She says softly, her head shaking. “It was one night— we barely know each other.”  
   
He thought the same thing only a few minutes ago, but coming from her mouth they feel like poison going down his veins.   
   
“So why are you here, Gwen? Why did you use your status to ask around and find me, a stranger who you had one meaningless evening with?”  
   
Her breathes sound hard, uncontrolled even.  
   
“I never said it was meaningless.”  
   
“Meaningless enough.” He takes a few moments to take in the look on her face before speaking up again. “How did you even get back?”  
   
“I called one of the guys. There was a street sign not too far from where you parked the car. They came to pick me up and drove me straight to the airport.”  
   
Blake tried not to feel hurt at her words, but the sting is apparent regardless.  
   
“Why didn’t you just wake me? I would’ve drove you there myself.”  
   
“And tell you what, ‘hey Blake, I lied. I’m actually in this pretty big band and need to be home tomorrow for a sold-out show?’” She shakes her head. “No, I liked the fact that you didn’t know, besides.... I didn’t think I’d be able to leave if I’d waken you up.”  
   
Her admission leaves him weak, aching for her, knowing damn well she was off-limits now.  
   
“When we met, you said you were broken up. Did you— “  
   
“—That was the truth.” She interrupts. “I would never lie about that. We were broken up then, I was single.”  
   
“But not anymore.”  
   
“I couldn’t stay away.” She admits softly. “I don’t expect you to understand.”  
   
He finds himself take the final step to close the distance between them, their height difference making him tower over her a little, standing this close. She wets her lips subconsciously and he forces his gaze away from them, focusing on her eyes instead.  
   
“You said he was all you’ve ever known. You’re scared to be without him.”  
   
Somewhere in the back of his mind he registers that he has no right making statements about her life like that, but nothing about tonight screams self-control.  
   
“Why didn’t you tell me you were in the industry too?” She asks, ignoring his previous statement.  
   
She looks down and attempts at taking one step back, but he follows her so the distance quickly disappears again.  
   
“Would it have mattered?”  
   
He knows it would’ve. The same way it matters for him; he wouldn’t have cared about her status, but he’s at least a little hurt at the fact that she wasn’t honest with him, no matter how useless the lie.  
   
“I guess not.”  
   
“Why didn’t you tell me about the band? I specifically asked you— “  
   
She cuts him off again. “I liked the anonymity, Blake. Honestly, I don’t get that a lot and you not knowing who I was—it was refreshing. You wanted to be around me cause I made you feel something, not because of what you felt like you _had_ to feel.”  
   
He can’t even imagine how much fakeness she endures, being as big as she is. He’s glad he was able to be different for her, something real, yet it’s still painful to have her standing right there but so far out of reach all the sudden.  
   
“Why are you here, Gwen?”  
   
She doesn’t wait. “I missed you.”  
   
“But you didn’t think you’d see me again…”

“That’s right.”  
   
He makes the mistake of letting his eyes cast down to her lips once more, his heart racing.  
   
“I’m here now.”  
   
He watches her chest rise and fall again, her finally regained control over her breathing now faltering again. He’s quickly learning she looks stunning no matter what.  
   
“How long are you staying?”  
   
He chuckles. “Tonight. My flight leaves tomorrow morning.”  
   
She contemplates her next move for what seems like an eternity, and he finally figures out why. She comes barreling forward into his chest, nestling herself there much like she’d done that night at the lake. Her arms come around his waist, holding him close as she breathes softly against him.  
   
“Don’t go yet.”  
   
“Gwen, you shouldn’t even be here.” He says the words, but his arms come around her in a tight embrace, contradicting everything that comes out of his mouth.  
   
“I could show you around a bit, spend some time with you.”  
   
Hearing her say those words sound much like a fairytale, unreal even. She’s sparkly, alluring, and more than anything—unreachable. And heaven help him, he wants to ravish her.  
   
“You know we can’t.” He whispers.  
   
He feels himself grow quiet, his breathing slowing down as he awaits the moment she inevitably retreats. He’s quite sure she’s trying to kill him when she doesn’t.  
   
“Something is so different with you. _I’m_ different with you.”  
   
“How are you different?” He takes the bait easily.  
   
She shrugs in his arms, but stays put.

“More like myself, I guess. It’s like you bring out a version of myself that’s the closest to the truth.”  
   
“But not completely?”  
   
She laughs at that, and it confuses him immensely. “Is anyone ever truly one-hundredth percent themselves around someone else?”  
   
She looks up at him with wondering eyes, her arms still around his waist and her chin now pressing into his chest.  
   
“I like to think I’m myself with you.” He hears himself say, ignoring how reckless his admission is.  
   
“Then stay.” She says smoothly. “Just a few more days.”  
   
“Gwen, I have things to do—I have to go back.”  
   
“One day then.” She tries, not letting up.  
   
He raises his eyebrow, his finger seeking out her face as he traces the outline of her cheek. “Gwen, the way I think about you, the way I _feel_ about you—it wouldn’t be right, not with your boyfriend in the picture again.”  
   
She finally creates the distance he feels like she was supposed to take minutes ago.  
   
“Why do you keep bringing him up?”  
   
He pauses for a moment, stunned by the sudden look of hurt overtaking her features.  
   
“It’s kind of hard not to, darlin.” The pet name escapes him automatically. “For some reason you unlock something within me that I haven’t felt in years. You want me to just hang out with you, be your friend while your boyfriend waits for you at home?”  
   
She scoffs at that, avoiding his gaze. “I _highly_ doubt that.”  
   
The bitterness in her voice reminds him of the bad blood between them, the way she looked both heartbroken and relieved that night he met her for the first time.  
   
“Why are you back with him?”  
   
She heads towards the door and he’s convinced he fucked up royally now, making her leave, but instead she steadies herself against the door and turns around to face him again.  
   
“You can’t ask me these type of things, Blake.”  
   
He nods. “But you can beg me to stay for a few more days.”  
   
“As friends.” She stammers, her hands now fidgeting nervously. “It’s fine, Blake. If you don’t think you can do that, then you’re right, we shouldn’t.”  
   
“Gwen.”  
   
“Blake, it’s okay.” She turns around quickly, but her usual finesse and elegance is missing when she tries to open the door, her emotions quite literally getting the best of her.  
   
“One day.” His thick accent mixes perfectly with the catch of her breath.  
   
She turns around slowly, like she’s unsure of what she just heard, obviously flustered and if only it wasn’t such a goddamn beautiful sight.  
   
“Really?”  
   
He should take this as his out, change his mind and never look back, for this is undoubtedly not going to end well—instead he finds himself agreeing.  
   
“Yeah. I can call my manager, tell him to postpone my flight twenty-four hours.”  
   
She nods. “I can pick you up here tomorrow. Show you around.”  
   
He registers a small grin on her face when he agrees, and he knows he needs to stay right where he is, mastering the art of self-control like never before.  
   
“I see you tomorrow morning then.” She confirms. “Ten?”  
   
The exhaustion he feels comes out in a well-timed yawn. “Ten thirty.”  
   
“See you tomorrow, cowboy.”  
   
His mother had always warned him about his reckless heart; caring and loving the way he did a recipe for either regret or heartbreak, both taunting him the same. He’d find himself diligently analyzing his reasons, hoping this time his mind would be satisfied with his self-proclaimed reasoning, but it never was. Like an unforgiving cycle it would be back tomorrow to haunt him all over again, and when Gwen pulls the door shut with one last promise of tomorrow, he’s convinced she’ll haunt him till the end of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you all are still digging this...


	3. Chapter 3

_November, 2002_

 

The next day he’s up in a hurry. The hotel staff had already banged on his door twice by the time he got himself to carry his ass out of bed; the jeans hanging over the cocktail table in the back getting their second wear today. He’s still not fully used to the grand room he’s been assigned, most of it not even appreciated since he’ll only be here for one more night. The morning feels like quite a hassle; unable to wake up on his own time, an alarm blaring a little over nine o’clock, and when Gwen decides to be fifteen minutes early he finds himself with a string of curses waiting to roll off his lips.  
   
“Gwen, we said 10:30 for a reason.”  
   
The door had barely been opened when the words left him, the look on Gwen’s face lacking any sort of care for it.  
   
“It’s not like you were indecent or anything.”  
   
He shakes his head, the fatigue still way too present in his body and he can’t seem to find the strength to go against her right now. He looks at her awaiting, dangling the hotel room key between his fingers.  
   
“Any idea of where you’re taking me today?” He asks finally, realizing Gwen is not going to start talking without some prompting.  
   
“As a matter of fact…” She starts, smiling widely. “I have a few ideas. I hope you don’t expect to come back here too early.”  
   
With Gwen, he’s learning to only expect the unexpected, an involuntarily grin forming on his lips.  
   
“I have zero expectations.” He says honestly, letting the words roll off with a certain carelessness to them.  
   
“Good.” She says, motioning for him to follow her out, her voice suddenly taking on a more bitter tone. “Expectations only lead to disappointments anyways.”  
   
He has a feeling what this is about, his own personal feelings towards the guy who gets her most priced attention egged on even more by the knowledge of his wrongdoings, even when Gwen never addresses them precisely. That night when they first met told him everything he needed to know—the look in her eyes matching the exact same one he saw looking back at him in the mirror.  
   
He fights the urge to ask her about it, knowing that it’s a touchy subject between them. Besides, he’s in the car with her right now, about to spend most of the day in her presence—sometimes, ignorance really is bliss.  
   
“You know, for someone who had so much to say about  _my_  car, you’re really not doing too bad yourself.”  
   
Gwen puts the large black van in drive, chuckling to herself. It looks almost funny to see her sitting behind the wheel in such a large vehicle, as if it could swallow her whole.  
   
“When No Doubt really started to become something it made sense to go for something like this, you know? We’re a touring band, that’s what we love to do most and what we’re the best at doing, so we’re pretty much always on the road. Couldn’t get something too small, otherwise we wouldn’t all fit in it. And they make me drive the damn van everywhere, no one else is getting behind the wheel when we go out and play—it’s only fair the car is mine.”  
   
He’s glad her eyes are on the road the whole time she’s been talking, for he is incapable of keeping the damn admiration off his face. He might not know much about them, but from what he’s seen, he’s completely understanding of them being this phenomenon.  
   
“I’d love to watch you guys play sometime. An actual concert, I mean. Not just one or two songs.”  
   
“You’d definitely stand out in the crowd.”  
   
He chuckles. “I bet I’m not what you’re used to being around.”  
   
She shakes her head, looking at him intensely as she stops for a red light.  
   
“You’re not, but that’s a good thing.”  
   
He holds her gaze, couldn’t even look away if he tried. Despite her efforts to remain somewhat of a mystery, her eyes are always as open and honest as they could be—reminding him of a safety he could only ever feel at home.  
   
“As long as we connect on music, right?” He says carefully, not wanting to go down that rabbit hole of analysing all she could’ve meant by that.  
   
The car speeds forward again and he loses her gaze, but he’s well-aware of the everlasting attention that’s still on him.  
   
“Why didn’t you want to tell me you were an artist too?” She asks hesitantly.  
   
“I did. I said I was a writer.”  
   
“You know that’s not what I meant.”  
   
He shrugs. “I didn’t tell you for the same reason you didn't, I guess. Besides, I saw you perform; it doesn’t matter what I do, it pales in comparison.”  
   
“That literally doesn’t matter, Blake.” She looks at him quickly, shaking her head. “I can’t say I know what you do, but I’m sure if it’s authentic to who you are, it’s pretty impeccable.”  
   
“Gwen…”  
   
“We’re here.” She says suddenly, making the car come to a stop.  
   
He’s torn between wanting her to never stop talking to him the way she does, and needing her to stop uttering a word to him. Arriving at their destination is what saves him this time, but he’s quickly learning it saved her too; saved her from her own admiration for him that’s becoming harder to hide with each passing moment.  
   
He wishes she didn’t  _have_  to hide it.  
   
“Where are we?”  
   
He doesn’t get an answer until they’re both standing in the parking lot, her back leaning against the front of the van. He looks around to find a whole lot of concrete and an intense heat he doesn’t get that much of back home. He thinks that if he were here with anyone else but her, he would’ve lost it; the lack of nature and fresh air making him feel uncomfortably trapped.  
   
“I know we both weren’t completely honest with each other when we first met, so I thought we should get to know each other better—on that level.”  
   
His eyes widen, unsure of if he heard her correctly. “I thought you said you wanted to show me around the city.”  
   
“I do.” She says quickly, looking down before finding his gaze again. “This is not our only stop today, cowboy. I just thought this was the most important part and since you’re only here for one day…”  
   
“Okay.” He concedes, suddenly nervous. “So what is this place?”  
   
“Follow me.” She says instead of answering him directly, and he follows her into the unfamiliar building.  
   
“This is the place where all the magic happens.” She says with a spark in her eyes. “We use it as a rehearsal space, but many,  _many_  songs have started here. Ended here too.”  
   
“You rehearse here with the band?” He asks, feeling struck with awe as he eyes the place.  
   
She nods. “Yeah. If we go to the back, there’s a smaller space where we usually sit down to unwind, sometimes write a bit if inspiration strikes suddenly—this place can certainly do that to you sometimes.”  
   
He listens carefully to her explanation, smiling at her clear adoration for music and this place. He’s had the pleasure of seeing Gwen in a bunch of different scenarios and emotions; excitement and passionate his two favorite sightings.  
   
“And here….” She says before coming to a stop as she turns to her left, stretching out her arm to the few instruments stacked up against the wall. “…Here are some things I think might excite you most.”  
   
He’s been fortunate enough to have played a bunch of gigs, he’s been around a few rehearsal spaces of his own, but nothing quite compares to what she’s showing him now. He wants to move forward and make himself acquainted with some of these musical treasures, but both being here and being here with Gwen, make it all just a bit _too_ overwhelming.  
   
She must realize this too, because she takes it upon herself to carefully grab the guitar out of its stand, before pressing it into his hands.  
   
Blake shakes his head, wanting to protest but she shushes him quickly. “Just take it.”  
   
He smiles when he accepts the instrument, walking with her to the smaller room that’s located in the back, sitting down on the rather small sofa. There’s not much room to sit for two people, but they manage somehow, her knees touching his as they do.  
   
“Play something for me.”  
   
He knows protesting won’t get him anywhere and having a guitar in his hands might be the most familiar thing he could find right now; the acoustic Gibson having an almost calming effect. Its heavy wood was satisfying in the hand, the tones rich and full as he strums a few times in experiment.  
   
“What do you want me to play?”  
   
Gwen swallows. “One of your own songs.”  
   
He didn’t expect anything less, but his fingers feel heavy suddenly against the strings, the occasional strumming he’s been doing halting.  
   
“I didn’t take you for the country type.”  
   
He looks at her directly, watching her lips turn into a small, shy smile.  
   
“Maybe I’m just a Blake-type.”  
   
He reminds himself to keep breathing, tearing his gaze away from her as he wills himself to remember the lyrics to his own song. His fingers start playing the familiar chords, losing himself soon enough and by the time it’s time to sing the first line, he’s found the strength to sing through the raging fire she ignites within him.  
   
The sweet refrain of the acoustic guitar speaks to his soul in a way nothing else can; the strumming sound having a hypnotic soothing quality that he couldn’t possibly crave more right now. He looks at her when he delivers the last few lines of the song, her eyes fixated on him.  
   
He fades the song out slowly, his fingers continuing to play the chord until he can’t any longer, the music filling the space coming to a gentle end.  
   
He looks at her anticipatory, taking notice of the way her breathing has sped up from before she ordered him to play.  
   
“Wow Blake, that was….  _amazing_.” She breathes.  
   
“It’s nothing.” He dismisses a bit awkwardly. “You put me on the spot.”  
   
She takes the guitar out of his hands, ignoring the way he winces at her not so gentle way of dealing with the delicate instrument. Setting it aside so she can turn into him, her knees now bumping into the side of his leg, she tries to get through to him.  
   
“Blake, I’ve seen enough people play to recognize when someone is the real deal. What you just did…. you make it seem so easy, so real.”  
   
“Have you seen yourself?” He asks genuinely. “You just described what you do in a nutshell. It’s crazy, Gwen.”  
   
She bites her lip at the compliment, blushing slightly. “You’ve only ever seen me play twice.”  
   
“And I’m very sad about that.”  
   
She laughs with her head thrown back and he allows himself a few moments to bask in the glorious sight.  
   
“Why don’t you sing something for me?” He asks, the idea lingering around in his head the moment they stepped onto the premises.  
   
Her eyes widen, her hands fidgeting nervously. “I don’t play an instrument and you don’t know any of our songs.”  
   
“Any song you and your band like to cover? Something I might know?”  
   
She laughs again, shifting back into her previous sitting position and bumping her shoulder into his.  
   
“I highly doubt it. What other music do you like to listen to, besides country?”  
   
He frowns a bit, pondering over the question. “You’d be surprised, actually. Anything from ‘70s love songs to ‘80s rock is always a solid yes from me.”  
   
She uses her hand to push against his shoulder, creating a bit more distance between their upper bodies as she looks at him with a stunned expression on her face.  
   
“You did not just say that to me.” Her eyes still wide.  
   
“What?”  
   
“That’s literally all I listen to.” Her face colours with a childlike expression of excitement and he wants to memorize that look forever. “It’s actually unfair how much you and I can connect over things.”

He hears her voice take on a bit darker tone and he hates himself for not minding it one bit— she  _should_  find this just as hard as he does.

“Maybe.” He hesitantly agrees. “Maybe sometimes things are just meant to be this easy.”

She locks eyes with him then, softly nodding before tearing her eyes away from his face and towards the instrument next to the couch.  
   
“Do you know “Leather and Lace”, the Fleetwood Mac song?”  
   
“ _Do I know_ ….” He shakes his head, motioning for her to hand him the guitar back. She does so immediately and once he thinks he has the melody figured out in his brain, his fingers start playing the intro to the song. “I’m a little offended at that question, but whenever you’re ready, just jump in.”  
   
She smiles at him sweetly, whispering a playful apology as she seems to try and recall the correct lyrics to the song.  
   
When her sweet voice starts accompanying his strings, he must remind himself to keep breathing. He’s heard her a few times before, but here without the support of her band and live production, she’s a masterpiece in motion. He looks up from the strings to look at her, his eyes lingering on her mouth and eyes, taking it all in.  
   
She fumbles a lyric, biting her lip as she tries to get back into the groove of things. He watches her struggle a bit and decides to guide her through it.  
   
“Just go back to the chorus.” He smiles sweetly, playing the chorus again.  
   
Her voice is too tempting for her own good, every syllable sounding more convincing and more haunting when it falls off her lips.  
   
His playing flows perfectly with her timing and he didn’t expect playing music with her to be any less passionate but he gulps quietly as she so effortlessly takes him to a place beyond what’s tangible. He doesn’t stop playing until her voice starts fading out completely.  
   
When he meets her gaze, he sees the same passion pooling there, her face flushed.  
   
“Maybe we shouldn’t have sung that song.” She whispers, her fingers touching her lips briefly as if he’d kissed them, and damnit, if he didn’t wish he did. “With those lyrics.” She adds.  
   
He’s aware of her composure seriously cracking, but he doesn’t budge this time.  
   
“I think that was incredible.” He says, still recovering from her voice and her willingness in the moment to be so transparent in her longing. “Music should be passionate; if it’s not, you’re not doing it right.”  
   
He waits impatiently for a reply, but it’s his own phone that cuts the moment short. He curses softly, grimacing a little.  
   
“Shit, I’m sorry. It’s my manager, I should take this.”  
   
She nods convincingly. “Yeah, yeah. Go ahead.”  
   
He smiles at her briefly, holding the phone up to his ear as Brandon gives him no chance to get a word in. He tilts his head as he leans back against the sofa, focusing on hearing everything his friend is saying.  
   
“Austin is really making some moves here in Nashville, Blake. You didn’t just get a number one, you’re getting incredible acclaim—critics are eating this one up. I’ve spent all morning on the phone with numerous people and I’m very pleased to tell you I’ve been able to get you on Toby Keith’s tour as a supporting act.”  
   
Blake tries his best to take everything in, but his manager’s words feel almost as surreal as Gwen still sitting next to him. He takes a deep breath, shaking his head.  
   
“What? How did you…. Toby Keith?”  
   
“Yes, I promise you—this is happening!” Brandon can’t hide his own excitement and Blake knows his care for him is real and genuine. “The tour starts in three weeks, so you’ll have some time to work on a setlist, rehearse, meet the man himself.”  
   
“I can’t believe this brother, thank you.” Blake says dumfounded, shooting Gwen a stunned look that she replies with a curious one of herself.  
   
“Take it in, have some fun and we’ll talk about this some more when you get back tomorrow.”  
   
“Damn straight, brother.”  
   
The line disconnects and he’s left looking at his gorgeous friend with the utmost confusion and excitement.  
   
“ _Blake_.” She squeals. “What was all that about?”  
   
He stands up, his excitement making it unable for him to stay seated, his feet pacing a little as he looks at her while trying to find the right words.  
   
“That was my manager.” He starts. “He’s made it possible for me to go on tour with one of country music’s biggest hit makers of right now, Toby Keith.”  
   
A huge smile appears on her lips, as she tries to conceal the fact she has no idea who he’s talking about, and fails miserably.  
   
He laughs. “I don’t expect you to know the guy. But do you understand how big of a deal this is? This is my first tour, after my first number one song.”  
   
That’s all it takes for Gwen to jump up from the sofa as well, crashing into him harshly as she jumps into his arms. He catches her with ease, spinning her around once before lowering her back to the ground, his arms still gripping her tightly.  
   
“Blake,  _oh my god,_ congratulations. You deserve this.”  
   
She glares up at him, her smile blinding and his arms tighten around her in reflex. She doesn’t seem to mind, her hand resting on his chest as she makes no move to back out of his hold. “You’re going to go places, you know that right?”  
   
He grins. “That’s usually what happens when you go on tour.”  
   
She slaps his chest, giggling. “You know what I mean! You’re meant for this too, Blake. You live and breathe music, that’s clear from how you play and sing, and you’re damn awesome at it.”  
   
He takes a deep breath, suddenly more aware of his raising heartbeat, his eyes meeting her chocolate gaze. Her being so close to him, while also portraying such a genuine expression of care and excitement for him is close to bringing him to his knees. He’s always prided himself for being a good man, but none of his thoughts in this moment are pure. His eyes linger on her mouth, his hand coming up the nape of her neck, his thumb touching her cheek slowly, but deliberately. She leans into his touch a little bit and all he can think about is lifting her head just slightly so she can meet his lips for a kiss.  
   
He smiles sadly. “You’re too beautiful, Gwen.”  
   
“Blake…” She pleads softly, and for what he’s not sure—to go for it, to let her go.  
   
“Thank you for convincing me to stay one more day.” His thumb still rubs slowly over her cheek and he’s completely aware of how inappropriate he’s being, just like he’s completely unable to find the strength to do something about it. “I wouldn’t have wanted to share this moment with anyone else.”  
   
He can see her cheeks burn up a little and he’s at least satisfied to realize she’s not faring much better than he is at the moment.  
   
“I knew something like this would happen for you.” She says softly, her voice a bit rough to his ears but her smile smooths over the roughest edges of her being.  
   
“You’d never heard anything I did up until today.” He smirks.  
   
Her smile grows wider. “And I’ve known something like this would happen for you  _ever since.”_  
   
He laughs and finally drops his hand from her face, creating a little distance between their bodies. Gwen fumbles on her feet a little, her hand raking through her hair as she inhales deeply. Turning on her heel suddenly, she walks over to where the guitar is laying on the sofa, turning back to him when she holds the instrument steady in her hands.  
   
“Should we bring this back and get out of here?”  
   
He nods, thinking being in a different atmosphere with her might do some good; this place just too damn passionate and intimate when spent with her.  
   
“Where to?”  
   
She shrugs. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”  
   
He rolls his eyes, not one for surprises but also not surprised to find out he’s going with it nonetheless. He walks towards the exit, motioning with his hand for her step out in front of him.  
   
“After you, darlin’.”

*

He’s almost too relaxed in her presence, he knows that. Even after finding out who she is and what she does, to him she’s still just that girl who took his breath away after hearing her sing for the first time—to him, she’s just Gwen. She took him out to grab a bite somewhere on Santa Monica Pier, the name of the place something fancy he won’t ever remember, but the food was good and the company even better.

She sat close to him, but not too close, being aware of public outings with another man getting easily misconstrued, despite its innocent nature. Still, he found himself mesmerized by the shy smile shimmered across her lips, resulting into the crinkling of the corners of her eyes. He’s struck by the desire to kiss that smile right off only to watch it appear again.

Gavin.

He keeps repeating that name in his head, it being the one thing that keeps him from acting out, the one thing that keeps him from getting what he wants.

The sun is starting to lose its power, the streets already starting to clear out a little bit which makes it undeniable easier for Gwen to be out. He doesn’t know how he would deal with the lack of anonymity—he’s quite sure he wouldn’t be as elegant about it as she is.

There’s a feeling of disappointment when he’s back in her car, expecting her to drive him back to the hotel, ending their time together. Instead, she looks over at him hesitantly before biting her lip. The motion doesn’t go unnoticed and he raises his eyebrow in question.

“I can tell you wanna say something.” He smiles, realizing that underneath all that brazenness and honesty is actually quite a shy personality.

“Okay, so I know it’s getting a bit late….” She trails off, while deliberately batting her eyelashes. “But are you up for one last stop?”

He chuckles at her tactics, looking out the rear-view mirror as the pier disappears somewhere in the distance.

“Sure.”

He tries to hide the excitement he feels at knowing their day is not quite over yet, but there’s a smile forming on his lips that he couldn’t contain for the life of him.

They drive up a hill that looks both alluring and deserted and he finds himself continuously being overwhelmed by Los Angeles. They drive past some hiking people who don’t seem to pay attention to who’s driving by, but he wonders how much of that will change once they get to where they’re going.

He notices how she’s slowing down the car, parking on the side where the road turns into a hiking trail. She looks at him sweetly before her seatbelt disconnects with a click.

“We have to walk this last part.” She beams. “It’s gonna be so worth it though.”

He doesn’t tell her it wouldn’t take him any convincing, he would follow her anywhere. She takes the lead as she walks him up the hill, the view of the city beneath them almost as breathtaking as the girl who leads him. The sun going down slowly gives the sky an almost purple glow, and it’s the first time since being in this city that he found something that resembles home a little bit.

He smiles at it dawns on him that’s probably why she brought him here.

“I know it’s a bit touristic to do, but well, you kinda are.” She smiles, looking up at him as she slows down a bit, waiting for him to walk next to her.

“Do _what_?” He asks clueless.

She smiles instead of answering him and the expression on her face is one of an excited child getting ready to show an adult something. She looks around like she’s making sure she led them right, and sighs in relief when she apparently spots what she’s been looking for.

“We could go a little bit closer but right here we have more privacy and the view is still gorgeous.”

He takes two large strides to catch up with her and lets his eyes scan over the newly discovered sighting. Despite his preconceived idea of the city, he can’t deny the magical allure this view has. The white aluminium letters stand tall against the lights of the city that lays below it. The purple sky making it that much more special.

“Wow, Gwen….”

She smiles proudly. “I told you it’s cheesy and touristic, but you like nature and— “

“—This is perfect.” He cuts her off, smiling at her nervous ramble.

She sighs in relief again, bumping her shoulder into his side playfully. “You wanna sit down here for a moment?”

She sits down first and stretches herself out slightly, her elbows keeping her from laying down completely. He lowers himself down next to her, close enough to never lose the scent of vanilla going up his nostrils. He thinks about how this moment feels like something out of a movie more than it feels like it could happen to him, but this is real life; he’s left familiar Nashville to socialize in Los Angeles and ends up watching the Hollywood sign with Gwen sitting close to him.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks eventually, taking notice of his mind wandering.

“I’m thinking about how this doesn’t feel like it could happen to me.”

She frowns before looking straight ahead again. “You could’ve driven up here without me, sat your butt down right here and created this moment for yourself a million times over.”

He smiles but the tone in his voice is serious.

“Besides the point.”

“What _is_ your point?” She pushes.

His smile fades as she asks all the questions that are too tricky for him to answer.

“My point is that I’m happy here. I’m happy right now.”

He decides to be honest but leave a bit to the imagination altogether. If she manages to read between the lines, that’s on her.

She nods. “I’m glad you are, Blake.”

He looks over at her, her features soft against the pretty view but her eyes sparkling with what he can only identify as tears.

“Are _you_ happy, Gwen?”

She looks at him a bit confused, but smiles at him gently anyways.

“I am right now.” She offers.

“Not always?” He pushes this time, Gwen not the only one who needs honesty.

She sighs deeply. “You’re thinking I should be, right? My career going right, performing at a hot shot award show, all that good stuff.”

He shakes his head determinedly. “I’m not thinking that at all, Gwen.”

He doesn’t know if she’s doing it on purpose, but she lets herself lean a bit more into his space until her head is almost leaning fully on his shoulder.

“Maybe that’s what _I’m_ thinking.” She admits softly. “I’m a happy person—I don’t need all of that crazy stuff.” 

“So, why aren’t you?” He asks carefully. “Happy?”

A bitter smile pushes past her lips. “You know that feeling you get when you freshly walk off a stage?”

Blake beams. “The adrenaline rush.”

“Before that.”

“What do you mean?”

“The moment your brain realizes you’re going to have to step off soon. When you realize what you’re stepping back into. I dread it.”

Her meaning hits and he fights the urge to take advantage of her closeness, wrap her in and press every single promise and commitment against her skin.

“It’s hard to turn it all off sometimes. I can’t imagine how that must be on your level.”

She chuckles softly, turning her head so she can look up at him.

“I just want to step off stage knowing something good is waiting for me there once I do. Does that make sense?”

He looks straight ahead at the sign in front of them; so close but much too far away to touch.

“Yeah it does.” He says softly, his hand itching to grab hers. “The simple things aren’t always the easiest to find.”

She shakes her head with tears in her eyes, sitting up a bit more as her eyes land on his hands.

“And sometimes they just fall into your lap.”

He can’t help himself anymore, he gently but deliberately motions for her to come closer so he can wrap his arm around her back and tug her into his side fully. Her head fits perfectly under his chin, his hand trailing softly up and down her arms. He would freak out about his sudden brazen move if she didn’t so visibly relax in his arms.

“You know what I’m gonna say right?” His voice is soft and gentle, but the honesty makes his word hit that much harder.

She nods but doesn’t dare to look at him.

“I can’t.” 

“You can.” He retorts.

She touches his arm with the one he isn’t currently still touching. “I don’t even know who I am without him.”

“Don’t you want to find out?”

Her hand lands on top of his hand and she squeezes it like she desperately needs the closeness but also needs to barrow some of his strength as she dives into a conversation she doesn’t believe she’s ready for.

“What if it’s not him?” She chokes out, a lone tear escaping from the corner of her eye. “What if it’s me?”

He shakes his head, resting his cheek against the top of her head. “You deserve to come home to someone who appreciates you. You deserve to walk off that stage and into someone’s arms who weren’t wrapped around someone else that same morning.”

The hitching of her breath isn’t lost on him and he realizes the magnitude of his statement—saying out loud what she’d been scattering around all along.

“Yet I’m here with you. In _your_ arms.”

He takes a deep breath as he feels his rib cage expanding, hating what she’d just implied almost as much as he hates it being the truth. He realizes how they’re both thrumming with tension now, awaiting the inevitable moment they’ll come down and crash.

“It doesn’t feel wrong.” Is all he knows what to say.

“It doesn’t.” She replies softly, her fingers still playing with his. “Has the news about going on tour really hit you yet?”

He looks down at her a bit confused, but the change of subject isn’t too unwelcome. He smiles at the recollection of the phone call and Gwen’s genuine excitement about it.

“A little.” He confesses, squeezing her a little bit tighter. “This surely is quite the celebration of good news.”

She smiles softly and he takes pride in being the one who evoked it.

“I’m glad I’m the one you’re celebrating with.”

She’s leaning against him to the point where his body is the only thing keeping them both from falling back. He has no problem with the closeness, the tightening in his chest and jeans something he makes do with.

“I’m gonna miss hanging out with you while being on the road—which is crazy considering we’ve only really hung out twice.”

He thinks she can see it in his face, can read it in his eyes, because he sees understanding cross through her gaze as she studies him. This position they’re in isn’t ideal, not by a long shot, but if this is what they have been given, he’s going to make damn sure they get all they can out of it.

“I’ll call you.” She whispers softly, her hand finally stilling on top of his. “Once a week? We can talk, you can tell me all about your adventures out there.”

“And maybe you can step off stage knowing a phone call awaits you?” He grins playfully, the meaning of his words not going unnoticed though.

She smiles softly. “I’d like that. I’d _really_ like that, Blake.”

The sun is now almost completely down and he knows it’s only a matter of minutes before she’ll upper the idea of heading back down, but between the magical LA view and the promise of Gwen talking to him throughout the tour, he still manages at a sense of serenity.


	4. Chapter 4

_March, 2003_

 

The tour was coming to an end soon. His body was starting to finally get used to the demanding hours of being on the road, resulting in a high on adrenaline each night, keeping him from sleeping.

Gwen kept her promise; she called at least once a week and those conversations were usually spent by him talking and her listening. She was a great listener, he learned. Weeks and weeks of being away from home is something tricky to get used to, but hearing her voice every week made it all just a bit more bearable.  
   
The final two shows were coming up, the second to last show being tonight. He remembers the surprise that surged through him as Gwen told him she wanted to come out and watch him play. He knows she’s supportive of what he does, but it’s also no secret she’s completely clueless when it comes to country music. Knowing she’s okay with catching a whole show just to see him perform causes a chain of electricity warming him up from the inside out.  
   
Ofcourse he’s lucky to have his last two shows be in Arizona, for it only being an hour flight from California—but still, she’s making the effort to fly out and come see him and it’s the only thing that matters to him right now.  
   
He’s barely alive when the show preps are being ran, people rushing in and out as the stage workers have been busy for hours. He knows not to expect her before his set begins, as she had some meetings today she just couldn’t push back, making it so that she would arrive here at the venue right at the time he’d go on.

Time goes by entirely too slowly and by the time he’s preparing backstage and the noise from the growing crowd inside starts reaching his dressing room, he’s dizzy with anticipation. There’s always a rush of adrenaline that kicks in before each show, but he knows that the adrenaline rushing through his veins tonight are entirely unrelated to the crowd already inside and have everything to do with the one person who has yet to arrive.  
   
He barely recognizes his cue, the sound of cheers and his introduction music playing is what eventually spurs him into action. He looks over the crowd, the thousands of people watching him making him clutch the wooden Gibson just a tiny bit tighter against his body, until natural instincts kick in and he’s able to lose himself in what he’s always been destined to do. Crowd interaction seems almost effortless, his heart thumping loudly when he realizes he’s able to play into them perfectly.  
   
Hit set isn’t too long, but it’s long enough for people to really warm up to him. He thinks it might be the best feeling to see fans who weren’t necessarily here for him, actually dislike the moment he announces his last song. The final chords of his set rang loudly through the venue, a wave of applause and cheers accompanying him as he walks off.  
   
He’s barely set foot backstage when he spots her, her smile blinding as she approaches quickly.  
   
“Oh my god.” She squeals as she hugs him, the moment over way too soon. “They loved you. Like literally, they went nuts over you.”  
   
He doesn’t know what to say so he just smiles, hoping that with ‘they’ she’s including herself.  
   
“I’m so excited you’re here.” He says, his hand landing on her arm as he squeezes softly.  
   
There’s a hint of regret on her face, and it has him retreating immediately. She seems to catch on to the movement and reassures him quickly.  
   
“Oh no, I wasn’t…I didn’t mean _that_. It’s just…”

Her gaze lowers suddenly and he doesn’t understand why the world won’t let him have a few easy moments with her.  
   
“What’s going on?” He asks softly, one of the running crew people taking his guitar off his hands. He shoots him an appreciative glance before looking back at Gwen.  
   
“I’m so sorry, I wanted to come alone but he was kind of weirded out by me coming out here to see you and he decided he wanted to make it a little joined trip.”  
   
He looks at her a bit sheepishly, blaming the raging adrenaline rush from being on stage for his slow deciphering of her words.  
   
“Gwen, what— “  
   
His voice trails off once he spots the reason for her sudden change of demeanour. He tries to not show her all the discomfort he feels at the appearing of her boyfriend behind her. He bites his lip, unable to form any words, torn between wanting to tell them both to take a hike or beat the crap out of the smug looking Englishman.  
   
He does neither.  
   
“I’m gonna get a drink, but thank ya for coming Gwen. I’ll find you later, yeah?”  
   
He ignores her panicked look, needing desperately to create some distance before he loses his mind. His one relief comes in the form of a beer bottle being pressed into his hands, and just when he thinks he’s good for another try, he finds only one half of the couple he’s expecting to see and since his luck doesn’t seem to be with him tonight—it’s not Gwen.  
   
“She went to get herself a drink.” Gavin all but snarls at him, the man probably guessing she went to look for Blake. 

His own mind went along a similar route.  
   
He nods. “I heard you wanted to come along.”  
   
Blake tries to keep the accusation out of his voice, but fails miserably. He wasn’t intending on picking a fight with the man, but if the situation presents itself unwillingly…  
   
“She was dead set on coming here.” Gavin replies, seemingly unbothered by Blake’s discomfort. “I had to see what all the fuss was about.”  
   
He chuckles bitterly, looking around for a trace of the only woman who could put him in this position and not anger him to no end.  
   
“Nice one.”  
   
It seems with most of the awkwardness out of the way, there’s only room for their real feelings to resurface and Gavin’s the first one to go there.

“Is there anything going on between you and Gwen?”  
   
His British accent makes Blake murderous for reasons he can’t understand, his teeth gritting.   
   
“She would never do that.”  
   
Gavin squints his eyes, if Blake had known any better, he thinks he spots a hint of fear and regret on the man’s face.  
   
“She hung out with you that day after the award show.”  
   
Blake’s not sure if he just put it together himself or if Gwen decided to tell him the truth, but his mouth runs dry regardless.  
   
“And now...” Gavin continues. “...she’s traveling across the country to see one of your shows, while country music does nothing for her. No offense.”   
   
Blake swallows roughly. “None taken.”  
   
“She seems awfully supportive of you.”  
   
He finally seems to remember the beer bottle in his hand, taking a huge swig. “She’s a great friend.”  
   
The words burn to speak out loud, his throat constricting painfully around the word “friend”.   
   
Gavin shrugs. “She’s a great girlfriend.”  
   
Blake wants to punch the guy in the face, but he refrains. Instead, he puts the bottle to his lips again and drowns in the only warm sensation he can find.   
   
“Do you love her?”  
   
“Excuse me?”  
   
“You say she’s a great girlfriend.” Blake states, over the formalities now. “Do you love her?”  
   
The English man looks like he’s close to losing control himself. Blake almost braces for a fight— one that never comes.  
   
“What kind of question is that? Of course I do. I don’t see how that’s any of your business though.”  
   
“She’s a great friend. There’s a fire inside that girl, illuminating places that were meant to stay dark forever. When you know a girl like that, it’s always your business to ensure she’s happy.”  
   
He feels a surge of pride run through his veins at the Englishman’s rattled expression; realizing it might’ve been the first time he’s seeing the man without his signature smug look.  
   
“I think I’m gonna look for her now.”

The look he gets from the man is far from pleasant, but he can’t even fully blame him.  
   
“You should do that.” Blake finds himself saying, taking another swig of his drink, glad Gavin is deciding to take off because he doesn’t think he’s able to be decent for another second longer.  
   
When he’s left to his own devices again, he lets out a pained breath. If there’s one thing he’s learned from love, it’s that it makes for a horrible friend but great music and suddenly the only thought in his mind is getting back to the hotel and write. He’ll be the first to admit he’s not the greatest writer, but if he doesn’t get these feelings out on paper soon, he might actually detonate.  
   
He finds his manager backstage, engaging in the usual chatter and many congratulations that get swung at him. He smiles through all of it, even laughing along with some of his tour buddies who are all excited to celebrate the last night of tour. Technically, there’s still one last show to perform tomorrow but everyone’s already preparing to be home again for the first time in months’ tomorrow night.  
   
“Don’t tell me your ditching on us, Shelton.” Tristan speaks authorial, casing his guitar. “You’re going out with us tonight whether you like it or not.”  
   
“Man, I’m exhausted…” Blake starts reluctantly, not looking forward to this at all.  
   
“I don’t care, we’re all tired. This is the last night we’re all going to be in the same space. Tomorrow everyone will run off to their homes. You can sleep then.”  
   
Blake rubs an annoyed hand over his mouth and chin, smiling weakly. “Do I have a choice?”  
   
The guitarist smirks. “You damn sure do not.”  
   
Despite his inner reluctance, he does realize this might be good for him. There will be enough time to write and retreat after the tour ends—spending some wild times with his tour buddies, engaging in some bad decision might be exactly what he needs to get his mind off his tragic love life.  
   
He’s about to go off in a strung of curses, jokingly aimed at his friend, but a small figure in the doorway distracts him from everything he was about to say or do. Her back is leaning against the door as she bites her lip nervously, obviously not sure if she was supposed to come back here. He stands up immediately, walking away from the loud crowd that had gathered in the large dressing room.

“Excuse me, guys.”  
   
He doesn’t wait for any response, his feet dragging him over to where Gwen is waiting for him.  
   
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to drag you away from your friends. I just wanted to see you before you’d leave again.”  
   
“Come here.” He urges her, his hand landing on her upper arm as he pulls her away from there, walking with her to some quieter area backstage.  
   
She leans against the wall, her hand reaching out for his arm when he stands in front of her.

“Blake, you were amazing. I can’t even believe how good you were up there.”  
   
Hearing her words momentarily erases all the hurt and awkwardness of the night, smiling widely as he takes in her compliment.  
   
“Thank you.” His eyes cast away from hers, feeling slightly undeserving hearing these words coming from her. “I didn’t think you’d like it.”  
   
“Obviously it’s not really my type of music, but I think I’d like anything as long as you are the one playing it.”

She seems to realize the magnitude of her admission and clears her throat as she diverts the conversation elsewhere. “Are you excited to go back home tomorrow night?”  
   
He frowns, sighing. “I’m excited to get some sleep again.”  
   
She laughs. “It takes some getting used to. I used to sleep horrible on these first few legs of tour, but now I actually sleep best when I’m on a bus.”  
   
“I’m just glad our final show is at the same venue and I get to sleep in a hotel tonight.”  
   
She bites her lip, her head leaning against the wall behind her. “I’m glad for you too. And if you still can’t sleep you can always call me.”  
   
Her eyes widen and he swallows roughly.  
   
“That didn’t come out right.” She panics, closing her eyes tightly. “I meant you could call me and I could bore you over the phone until you fall asleep. Like we’ve done a bunch of times during this tour.”  
   
Their late night phone conversations were becoming more regularly, the subject of their conversations completely on the safe side, but with her boyfriend walking around here somewhere, it still feels like something forbidden they shouldn’t be doing.  
   
Her mind must go along similar lines, because she bites her lip suddenly and moves her back off the wall.  
   
“I should probably head back out there and find Gavin.”  
   
He nods. “Yeah. I kinda figured he wouldn’t leave you alone again.”  
   
Their earlier conversation plays around in his mind, the look in Gavin’s eyes one of both possession and frustration as he went back to find the woman who should’ve never agreed to being his girlfriend in the first place.  
   
“What do you mean?” She frowns, confused.  
   
“I ran into him when you were getting a drink. He told me he was going after you.”

His voice gets a nervous tremble all the sudden, his admission visibly startling her.  
   
“He didn’t….” She shakes her head. “…. He didn’t go after me. I haven’t seen him since then, I kinda figured he went backstage too.”  
   
He can see the fear in her eyes and he knows the feeling all too well, the insecurities of his past relationships creeping up on him with a vengeance. He wants to ask her if the real reason for her coming backstage was to find Gavin, but her panicked exterior makes him reconsider.  
   
“Hey, this place is huge. Maybe he just couldn’t find you.”  
   
His voice isn’t all too confident, but Gwen seems to be clinging on whatever strand of hope she can find right now.  
   
“Yeah.” She complies. “It was pretty crowded back there; I could barely get a drink for myself.”  
   
Blake makes a hopeful gesture, working overtime at making his voice get rid of all judgement and flaring anger. “See, he’s probably stuck somewhere in this country crowd, silently cursing you for dragging him out here.”  
   
His joke brings a small smile on her features, but her eyes remain sad.  
   
“I’ll look with you.” He hears himself saying, unable to stand the sad expression on her face.  
   
She smiles gratefully, moving slowly from where she’s standing as she follows him out. The venue is mostly deserted, some people still trickling out and all the tour members having ventured backstage as they’re getting ready to head out and party it up elsewhere.

He suddenly remembers himself agreeing to go out with them. He looks over at Gwen who’s too busy looking around the premises of any hint of the British jackass and he can’t get himself to tell her he’s supposed to be taking off too. Instead, he spends his time looking around for the one person he couldn’t care less about.  
   
“Where are the restrooms?” Her soft voice asks him, making him frown.  
   
“They’re back there.” He motions with his hand, looking back at her.  
   
She doesn’t so much as grant him a second look as she bolts for the place he just pointed at and it takes him less than half a second to follow. Something about her demeanour had changed from nervous to steadfast. She stops in front of the men’s restroom, knocking once as she calls for his name.

The silence does nothing to soothe her tense body and he’s fighting the urge to reach out and tell her to relax, not wanting to see her work herself up over something that might not even be happening. She turns to look at Blake finally and it takes him a while to understand what she wants.  
   
Not in the least bit excited about his position here, he walks passed her, brushing her body in the process. He pushes the door open, walking in first as he looks at what on the first impression seems empty, before the door on the left swings open hastily and a mischievous looking brunette rushes her way out. He feels Gwen getting restless behind him, his frozen body in the doorway probably giving more away than he intended.  
   
He feels Gwen pushing passed him, apparently done waiting.  
   
“Blake what—“ 

Her voice cuts off when Gavin walks out of the same restroom he just witnessed the other woman bolt out of, and he’s pretty sure the look on Gwen’s face will haunt him forever.  
   
He moves to the side to let the brown-haired girl through who rushes passed both him and Gwen without a second thought, surprised to see Gwen pay her little to no attention. Her gaze lingers on her boyfriend, her eyes watering but her body not making any move to approach.  
   
“Gwen, that was not what it looked like.”  
   
Blake scoffs at the ridiculous excuse, his eyes diverting back to Gwen who remains frozen in place.  
   
“I need some air.” She whispers, her hand shaking as she lifts it to point a finger at Gavin. “Don’t you _dare_ follow me.”  
   
She rushes her way out of there and Blake’s stuck between wanting to punch the asshole in the face and wanting to follow Gwen. His care for her will seemingly always come first and he chooses the latter, running after her and grabbing her arm gently.  
   
“Gwen, wait a second. Talk to me.”  
   
She shakes her head, the first few tears making its way down her cheek. “J-just leave me alone for a second.”  
   
He wants to protest, ignore her request, but just as Gwen walks out of view he feels a hand on his arm tugging him back. He’s almost ready to swing before he realizes it’s Tristan.  
   
“Shelton, not that I blame you for abandoning us for that stunner, but we’re heading out.”  
   
“I can’t.” He stammers, his eyes moving back to where Gwen was standing only a few seconds ago.  
   
“You can call her later. You promised, dude.”  
   
Blake grits his teeth, looking back to see if he can still catch a glimpse of Gwen anywhere but she had discretely disappeared.  
   
“I’m sorry man, I promise I’ll make it up to y’all. I can’t leave right now.”  
   
He winces a little, feeling bad for bailing on his friends, but also knowing there’s no way he can have any fun with them while his friend is out somewhere getting her heart broken in a million different ways.  
   
Tristan appears concerned suddenly. 

“Everything okay, Blake?”  
   
He nods. “Yeah, it’s just my friend…. she came all the way here and I just think she needs— “  
   
“— _You_.” Tristan finishes knowingly.  
   
His friend sighs but eventually gives in. 

“Next time then.”  
   
He shakes his hand, hugging his friend quickly. “Thank you man, I owe you one.”  
   
He’s left to his own devices when Tristan takes off into the back, his eyes scanning the place for any hint of Gwen. He walks towards the entrance of the venue to finally find what he’s looking for—only it seems like being held back by his friend for a few minutes gave Gavin the opportunity to find her first. Despite Gwen not looking at all impressed, he can barely suppress the surge of jealously. He’s not sure what he expected was gonna happen tonight after how everything had played out, but he secretly wished Gavin would’ve just accepted his loss and went back home, instead of trying desperately to win her back. Deciding he can’t watch just for the chance she might actually fall for it, he makes his way to the exit as he shoots her a text in case she needs to know his whereabouts or needs a shoulder to cry on later.  
   
Maybe going back to the hotel and executing his initial plan to write wasn’t that bad of an idea after all.

  
   
*  
   
It’s been years since he’s been able to focus this fully on nothing but the guitar in his hands and the words in his mind. Tonight hadn’t gone as planned and he can’t wait to get some alone time with Gwen again; getting to spend time with her like he’s done before, where _he’s_ the sole subject of her attention. His feelings for her aren’t getting any less, but he thinks that if having her in his life as a friend is the only thing he’ll get, he’ll be grateful for it until the end of time.  
   
It’s that thought that’s causing his creativity to flow across the strings of his guitar. He writes about the joys of knowing her and the tears he’s felt but hasn’t yet cried about her. He feels the sorrows of a love that hasn’t even happened yet—the words coming easily, but the added feelings making it harder to write them down.  
   
His phone is what eventually gets him to put the guitar down, his heart racing at the possibility of who it could be.  
   
“Hello?”  
   
He puts the guitar back in its case and lowers it underneath the bed, sitting on the edge. He doesn’t move an inch until he hears her voice.  
   
“You said I could call.”  
   
Her voice sounds different, a bit more forceful and with the beginning of a drunken slur.  
   
“Yes, yeah you can always call.” He stammers. “Gwen, have you been drinking?”  
   
He feels a bit guilty at the prospect of her answer; maybe he wasn’t right for leaving her alone tonight, no matter how good his intentions were.  
   
“You can find out for yourself.” She whispers, a silence falling between them as Blake ponders over the meaning of her words. “Open your door.”  
   
His head snaps back to the hotel room door, pushing himself off the bed. It only takes him three large strides to get to the door, disconnecting the line before he opens it.  
   
Her eyes are red and she has both her arms crossed over her chest, making her appear even smaller, even more vulnerable, but the beauty still oozes off her even now. He reaches his hand out for her and she needs no further prompting. The moment she takes his hand, he uses it to gently move her forward and she takes it upon herself to hug him. Her small arms attempt to reach all the way across his waist, but she ends up just gripping the back of his shirt. The shudder of her body doesn’t come as a surprise, but seeing her lose control as she breaks in his arms breaks his heart more than the words he’s been spilling out on paper ever could. He makes sure to wrap her up tightly, making her feel safe and supported as it’s all he can do. Her sharp intakes of breath hit his clothed chest rapidly and he can only hope that the soothing motions of his hand on her back will eventually calm her down.  
   
She pulls away a few minutes later, wiping at the moisture underneath her eyes. “I’m sorry.”  
   
He shakes his head, motioning for her to come inside and closes the door behind her. He’s right back in her line of vision afterwards.  
   
“Why are you apologizing to me?” He reaches out for her again but this time she hesitates.  
   
“I’ve been drinking and I’m an emotional mess.” She answers shakily, looking at his outstretched hand with both longing and nerves. If he didn’t know any better he’d say she feared it all the sudden, unsure if she could accept his support.  
   
He couldn’t stand it. “Come here, sweetheart.”  
   
She does so immediately, taking his hand and letting him lead her to the bed as she sits down ungracefully. He sits down next to her, his shoulder bumping into hers as he looks at her patiently, waiting for her to start talking.

She shudders out a few more broken breaths, her slim finger touching the place between her nose and lips.  
   
“It’s over.” She whispers. “He went back to California, I told him to go home.”  
   
He always figured that excitement and relief would be all he’d feel once she’d speak those words to him, but sitting next to her broken down frame, it’s quite the opposite.  
   
“Gwen, I’m sorry.”  
   
“I thought I could change him.” She sniffs. “I thought if I just loved him hard enough, he wouldn’t need anyone else anymore.”  
   
She’d never told him much about the things that went on in her relationship with Gavin, but she confirms all his suspicions with her words.  
   
“I don’t understand it.” He says carefully, a slight tremble in his voice as he finds himself unsure about how to articulate his next words. “You’re so amazing, you could have anyone in the world—why would you try so hard to make something work with someone like _that_?”  
   
He stares at the side of her face, watching it wrinkle in hurt and embarrassment, before a bitter smile etches its way onto her lips.  
   
“I know it sounds crazy. He made me feel so unlovable most of the time, but the times where he didn’t…. I didn’t think anyone could ever love me that passionately.”  
   
He looks away, shaking his head.

“You’d be surprised.”  
   
The bold statement causes her to shift her head to look at him, but he suddenly can’t handle her stare; knowing that once he gives in to what he’s been feeling and allows himself to go there, he won’t be able to hold back.  
   
“I’m sorry for ruining your night.” She says then, changing the subject away from his quiet admission. “I was supposed to come see you play and hang out with you, and instead all you’ve been doing all night is dealing with my drama.”  
   
His eyes now carefully trace hers, his mind swarming with potential words, a tangible way of stringing all his feelings for her in one sentence.  
   
“You didn’t ruin anything. I’m still glad you came, it still means the world to me. Despite you bringing that piece of shit with you.”  
   
His less than graceful words shake her, but the shock quickly turns into a smile.  
   
“I’m sorry for that too.”  
   
He watches regret overtake her features. 

“He’s not here now.”  
   
She huffs. “No, he’s not.”  
   
He stares at her, his chest pounding, and then he just says it.  
   
“He doesn’t deserve you, Gwen. He never has and never will, no matter how hard you try.” He can hear the catching of her breath, but he can’t stop now—he _won’t_ stop now. “I know I’ve told you this a bunch of times, but you’re too special to ever let yourself get treated like that. And if you’re scared you’ll never find anyone who’ll love you better…. Well, all I can say to that is that it’s a fear you should allow yourself to overcome.”  
   
Her breathing has quickened now, but her eyes don’t divert from his for a second. 

“Blake, I…”  
   
His hand cups her cheek softly, his hand wiping at some of the smudged mascara.

“There are so many people out there willing to give you the world, people who _do_ know what they have when they have it.”  
   
Time slows down between them for a brief moment, but he doesn’t give his former words much time to land before he speaks the ones he’s been too afraid to say ever since he met her.  
   
“He knows nothing ‘bout love, Gwen. If he did, he would know to never take for granted someone who’s this good.” He’s so close to her now, his breath is practically expelling on her face. “You don’t even realize how good you are.”  
   
The words spill out of his chest, his pulse quickening feverishly as her eyes widen and then settle on him so longingly he feels it everywhere.

“Let me show you.” He whispers.

Her hand comes up to trace along his jaw, her eyes closed. “I’ve never been this close to someone who is this good at seeing the real me.”  
   
He smiles, his eyes softening as he takes in her vulnerable words. “Will you let me show you, Gwen?”  
   
She doesn’t look at him when she nods, but it’s all he needs. Blake uses both hands to hold her face gently, pulling her closer until he feels the softness of her lips against his. She’s exploring and soft in the way she kisses him and it’s driving him crazy. He wants her to know the extent of what he feels for her without speaking anymore words. His hands venture over her body as he deepens the kiss, parting her lips with his tongue. When she moans into his mouth, he gently shifts them as he pushes her back on the mattress, his body now hovering over hers as he finally has her underneath him.  
   
He draws himself away from her lips for a moment, only to nuzzle his lips against her collarbone and down the smooth skin of her chest. Her moans and soft breaths are the only encouragement he needs, her fingers tangling in his hair tightly. He grunts in his efforts to move back up to her face, catching her lips again as he works deliberately at rendering her breathless.

He’s latching onto the feelings he knows are there, the mutual want in her eyes giving him enough confidence to know that he didn’t read it wrong. He deepens the kiss and the sound she makes travels right down to his groin as he pushes her hip up to slightly grind down on. 

“ _Oh my god._ ” She whimpers against his lips, her hand curling around the nape of his neck.

“Do you know how long I’ve been meaning to do this?” He whispers, cupping her cheek and tilting her head as his teeth nip her lower lip. 

Her hips thrust upward again and he knows what she wants before she voices her desires.

“Blake, please— _please_ don’t stop.”

He can see her eyes ripe with desire, her body flooding with nerves, her lips wet with his saliva and it’s the hottest fucking sight. 

And yet...

“You know we can’t.” He rasps against her slick mouth.

“I thought you wanted to show me how good this could be.” She whispers, a hint of disappointment lacing her words.

“I will, if you let me.” He nods, kissing up her cheek and the corner of her lips. “But there’s enough time to do that, Gwen. Times where you’re not drunk and upset.”

She shakes her head. “I’m not drunk.”

“You’re definitely also not sober.” He counters quickly.

The look in her eyes tells him that she’s slowly starting to accept what he’s saying, but her grip on him doesn’t lessen one bit.

“I want you so much.” She whispers, the admission leaving her lips quietly.

He smiles, letting his finger trace the outline of her face.

“Not nearly as much as I want you.”

She huffs, her breathing still ragged. “I doubt it.”

He sinks down then, his body weight settling into hers again, only more firmly than before. There’s no way she doesn’t feel his hardness pressing against her thigh like this.

She whimpers at the sudden increase of contact, his own teeth gritting. 

“You should trust me on that.” He rasps.

Her hand grabs his shoulder tightly, her eyes squinting as she tries to remain in control, knowing they won’t take things any further than this tonight.

“I can’t….” She shakes her head, the words dying on her tongue. “He just left, I won’t be able to— “

“—We don’t have to label this as anything yet.” He reads her quickly, his words followed up by a chaste kiss.

“I want to, but I just can’t right away.”

“I know.”

He can see it in her eyes that she’s grateful for he’s so tuned into her, knowing what she means even when she can’t force the words out.

He finally pushes himself up into a sitting position next to her, Gwen still lying with her back on the mattress, her chest heaving. He trails his hand up her thigh and just rests it there, sitting in silence for a few minutes before she breaks it.

“You’re the only thing in my life that still makes sense.”

He looks down at her face, her hazel brown eyes now clouded with tears. His hand moves to her face, wiping at some of the moisture that falls down her cheeks, but other than that he stays silent.

“If I could make this easy for us somehow, I would.” She continues, sniffing loudly. “But I can’t. I can’t even think about what the next few weeks of my life are gonna look like.”

He admits that hearing her speak those words don’t fill him with a whole lot of confidence, but he’s told her that he just wants her happy and he means it—he’ll do this her pace, whatever that might be.

“You don’t have to feel pressured here with me, okay?” He says softly, his hand caressing her cheek. “I just want to be there for you.”

“You always are.” She whispers truthfully.

“Stay here tonight.”

Her eyes widen.

“Not like that.” He corrects himself. “I just don’t want you to go back home alone or stay somewhere else—this room is big enough for two.”

“There’s only one bed.”

“We’ll stay dressed.” He chuckles, locking eyes again. “We won’t cross any more lines.”

She pulls herself up in a sitting position now too, leaning into his shoulder as she’s done so many times before, only this time feeling different.

“Are you sure you want me to stay?”

He tugs her into him, his arm coming around her as he keeps her there. He can feel his heartbeat banging against his chest; so much about them still being unclear and complicated, but it all seeming so inconsequential when he gets to hold her like this.

“Positive.”

Gwen chokes out a sound that’s something between a laugh and a sob, the words stuck in her throat. He watches as she can’t seem to push past the emotions that are overflowing her.

“Okay.”

When the word finally escapes, it’s barely more than a whisper, almost disappearing against the soft sounds from outside the hotel room.

He hears it loud and clear.


	5. Chapter 5

_March_ , _2003_

 

He barely registers the faucet running as his eyes squint open carefully. The soft mattress beneath him almost propels him back into slumber, but the empty spot next to him and the sounds coming from the bathroom suddenly rouse him back into reality. He finds himself still fully clothed on top of the covers, the dent in the duvet next to him the only indication he hadn’t been alone tonight.

Images of Gwen showing up at his door flood his mind, just before they make place for the images of his hands all over her, his lips finally getting to taste the sweetness of hers. He fills with worry all the sudden, the clock on the wall informing him it’s only a little over five am—most reasons he finds for Gwen being up at this hour are anything but positive.

It takes only two more minutes for her small frame to appear in the doorway, her small smile radiant even in the still lingering darkness of dawn. She had dressed into one of his larger t-shirts, wanting her to be more comfortable as she spent the night, without crossing that inevitable line. His worries are smoothed over just a little bit when she lowers herself onto the mattress again, seemingly uninterested in leaving.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks finally, his voice husky due to the early morning.

She shakes her head softly, smiling as she pushes herself onto her side to face him.

“Not really.” She admits quietly, her hands playing with the covers underneath her fingertips. “My mind just keeps racing.”

“About what happened between you and Gavin?”

The mention of his name makes her wince a little and he wonders if he went too far too fast, if maybe she needed a bit more time to process before being able to address it.

“Yes, _that_.” Her eyes cast down to her fingers. “And us.”

He nods, the thoughts of them having been the only thing on his mind ever since meeting her. “I’m sorry if it was too soon, I should’ve waited.”

She shakes her head again, this time her fingers let go of the fabric beneath her and reaches out for his cheek instead.

“It wasn’t.” She says sweetly, her finger tracing along his jawline. “I mean, it _is_ fast. But it wasn’t too fast. I wanted it.”

 _I_ _wanted_ _it_. The words are so simple but it staggers him completely. He knew there was chemistry there that’s undeniable to anyone with eyes, but to hear her say what he secretly had been hoping for all along had his mind going to places it hadn’t gone to in a long while.

“I’m serious too. I want to get to know you even better—take things slow.”

She smiles. “So you’re not asking me to marry you tomorrow?”

He grins, his hand finding hers before entangling their fingers on the mattress.

“No. I had that planned for next week.”

“ _Ah_.” She laughs, scooting a little closer to him without fully closing the distance between their bodies. “I really like you, Blake.”

Her voice drips in honesty, yet he’s perfectly able to tell the hint of fear there too. The feeling is not foreign to him, but throughout all the intensity this girl has brought to his life already, she’s also the only one who seems to be able to steady his heart in a way he’s never had before.

“I really like you too, Gwen.”

There’s a moment of silence between them, before she looks up at him with questioning eyes.

“You still have a show to do tomorrow.” She states suddenly. “Today actually. Not tomorrow.”

“Yeah, the last one of the tour.”

She nods. “And I’m totally distracting you.”

“I was hoping you’d distract me some more, all the way through the show even…”

Her eyes widen as his words register. “You want me to stay?”

He’s momentarily taken aback by the realization that she thought he didn’t, but he recovers quickly for the sake of showing her the opposite.

“Unless you really need to go back, but yeah.” He replies truthfully. “I was hoping you’d stay for at least today. I guess yesterday didn’t really go the way we hoped, so I thought maybe this could be our redemption.”

He watches her go through a whole bunch of emotions in front of him and he patiently lets her, knowing full well that the images of her ex-boyfriend hooking up with someone else at his show is probably the only thing she sees right now.

“Aren’t you going home after the show?” She asks eventually, after regaining some of her bearings.

He nods. “I could drive you to the airport after the show, or you could stay with me for a while. In Oklahoma.” He adds.

She opens her mouth to say something but swallows it down quickly, her eyes never wavering from his face.

“I want to.” She says softly, trapping the top of her index finger between her teeth. “I just don’t think I should stay with you just yet, you know?”

He’s not necessarily disappointed, knowing it was a long shot to begin with.

“Gwen, that’s totally fine.”

“I’d really like to stay to see you perform tonight though.”

He smiles widely. “That’s all I really want.”

“It’s not that I don’t _want_ to stay with you in Oklahoma….” She says softly, bringing it back to her previous point. She must realize Blake’s about to interrupt her because she cuts off the beginning of his sentence. “I just know myself and I should really take it easy—I can’t let myself get too attached too quickly. Not again.”

He wonders if she thinks she isn’t already, but he doesn’t push it, respecting her pace.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, darlin’. If it’s too soon, it’s too soon.”

She smiles gratefully. “You’re too good.”

He reaches out his hand and squeezes her shoulder gently, noticing the way she winces at the soft touch there.

“Does that hurt?”

She grimaces, a flush colouring her features as she grows slightly embarrassed. “It happens sometimes when I get stressed or just have a lot going on.” She grabs her shoulder and rubs it painfully. “It just completely locks up.”

“Come here.”

His voice is gentle but determined, motioning with his hand for her to roll closer to him. She seems to contemplate it for a few seconds before complying. She scoots over to his side of the bed, watching as he sits up against the headboard.

He pats the space between his legs, waiting patiently.

“Are you sure?” She asks quietly.

“Yeah, come on.”

She manoeuvres herself between his legs, her back against his chest.

“Just tell me if it’s too much.” He says sweetly, his hands gathering strands of her hair and drawing it to one side.

His t-shirt is so large on her it slides off her shoulders quite a bit, allowing him to see some of the goosebumps covering her skin as she gets ready for what he’s about to do. She moves her other arm upward, capturing the strands he’d pushed aside seconds before, making sure it stays in place and provides him with the access he needs.

His thumb presses intimately into the sensitive spot just beneath her neck, her breathing starting to waver as she tries to remain as still as possible.

“ _Oh_.” She exclaims between gritted teeth.

“Sorry! You weren’t kidding when you said it was completely locked.” He presses a bit more carefully into a tight bundle of nerves this time, bathing in the sigh of relief that leaves her lips afterwards.

“He always thought I was overreacting.”

Her words were spoken so quietly he almost missed them. He places a soft kiss on the top of her head, shaking his head behind her.

“You weren’t.” He says simply, while realizing she probably needs to hear the words. He runs a finger across the long line of her left shoulder blade as its obviously the problem area. “No wonder you can’t sleep.”

He can hear her intake of breath, indicating she was about to reply, when his thumbs press inward just a little and seemingly erases all protest from her body. She melts into him as he kneads the tension from her muscles.

“Where did you learn to do this?” She nearly moans and it goes straight to the deepest parts of him.

“Experience.” He chuckles, leaving it there as he’s not super interested in diving into when and where he started practicing this specifically. He’s pretty sure she’s not that interested in the answer either.

He’s relieved when she lets it go.

“God Blake, this feels so much better already.”

He smiles as he continues to press inward. “The pressure still okay?”

“Yeah.” She manages in a soft voice.

He moves his attention upwards as he starts to massage the back of her neck. Two thumbs slide up the column of her neck, applying pressure to the juncture of her nape, trying to ease the tension as gently as possible.

“Jesus Gwen, it’s even worse here.” He whispers as his fingers inadvertently brush her throat.

She doesn’t respond, just allows him to smooth out the tension. He hates to think about how she probably didn’t tell him she was in pain all night, just because that poor excuse of an ex-boyfriend convinced her she was overreacting. He moves down her back a little, pressing into the base of her spine until he reaches a particular tense part on her lower back. She bucks in response to his touch, the pressure there not enjoyable.

“I know it hurts, I just have to— “

“ _Shit_.” She gasps, her eyes widening as she realizes he eased the knot from her muscles.

His hands smooth up to her shoulders again, squeezing them softly in indication he’s done. She moves forward a little bit, only enough to have the space to turn around and look at him easier. Her smile is wide and her features are much more relieved and relaxed than they were before.

“Thank you.” She whispers, her hand reaching out to his face as she cups his cheek. “You’re quite magical, you know that?”

“That was nothing.” He brushes off. “I just wanted to help you get some sleep.”

She leans into his personal space and presses a quick kiss to his cheek.

“You. Are. Magical. Just trust me on that.”

 

*

 

Sometimes he’d get the opportunity to watch from upstairs, looking down at the people lining up in front of the theatre. He remembers being one of these people trying to see his favorite artists perform up on a stage, dreaming of one day getting to be up there himself. Life is too crazy sometimes, his heart doing weird flips at the realization.

The drink in his hand for the first time in a long time doesn’t have much of an appeal. He thinks the only reason he’s currently cradling a glass is solely for the familiarity.

“You’re dreaming again.”

Her voice is soft and teasing, her smile portraying much of the same when he looks up at her. She’s dressed in baggy green pants, her black bra shining through her white tank top and a camouflaged scarf tightly snuck around her neck. He smiles at the choice of attire.

“You know you don’t have to wear that just because you’re going to a country show, right?”

Her eyes widen before she playfully slaps his shoulder, taking a seat next to him on the lounge chair.

“Not saying I don’t appreciate the confidence but you actually have _nothing_ to do with my choice of clothing, cowboy.”

“That so?” He teases.

She laughs, her brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “You better believe it. There’s so much I admire about you, but your fashion sense isn’t one of them.”

Blake clutches at his heart dramatically. “That hurts, Gwen.”

She smiles before letting herself fall against his shoulder, craving the same intimacy Blake always needed.

“I’m sorry.”

He feels the vibration of her words against his arm as her cheek is almost fully pressed against it, and for a moment it’s all he wants to focus on. The remnants of his mind going far into his subconscious again.

“Okay, seriously Blake, what are you thinking so hard about?”

He chuckles, looking at her a bit hesitantly. “This is gonna sound weird, okay…. I just need you to be prepared for that.”

She squints her eyes, sitting up a bit straighter. “Okay, you’ve prepared me.”

“It’s just different doing a show when you’re there to watch me.”

Despite her being fully covered, he can’t help himself but get distracted again as he lets himself take her in fully. His eye line slips downward to her mouth, the fresh layer of gloss only making them more appealing.

“Oh.” She exclaims surprised, her lips parting slightly. “Different in a good way?”

“I love having you here.” He says quickly, not wanting to give her the wrong idea. “It’s just more pressure.”

“ _What_?” She shakes her head frantically. “Blake, that’s crazy—there’s no pressure.”

“A little.” He admits.

She’s staring at him, her eyebrows furrowed a bit. “Why? I’ve seen you play before—I’ve _heard_ you before.”

“Yeah, but yesterday I went on stage not knowing when you’d get there. I know you’ll be here from the start this time, it’s different.”

Her confusion is almost too endearing for her own good. It also makes him elaborate quickly.

“I just don’t do what you do, you know? I guess no one does, but to know you’re here and we’re close and you’re watching me…. It almost makes me feel a bit unworthy. Does that make sense?”

Her hands grab his suddenly, pulling them into her lap.

“No…” She shakes her head with a smile. “No Blake, that makes no sense. You wanna know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re incredible. You keep telling me how good I am and you’ve put me on this pedestal, but you seem to forget how you also didn’t get here for no reason—you have _one_ successful single out and your team already thought you were ready for a tour?” She shakes her head in awe. “You were meant to do this, Blake. It shows in everything you do, every word you sing. I don’t know who made you feel like you had to doubt your abilities like this, but they were wrong. _She_ was wrong.”

He feels the magnitude of her words hitting his chest painfully, the only relief being the sweet look in her eyes and the way her fingers have a hold on his wrist.

“How did you— “

“I might’ve dyed my hair blonde, but I’m not dumb.” She smiles, letting her finger graze his wrist lightly, rubbing slow circles along his skin. “You and I—we’re not that different.”

“ _God_ …” He rubs his free hand over his mouth, looking at her a bit flushed. “I’m sorry Gwen, I didn’t mean to— “

“—be this vulnerable?” She interjects, challenging him. “Be this honest?”

Sometimes her brazenness still takes him by surprise, her honesty in this moment leaving him with little to say.

“I didn’t mean to go this insecure on ya.”

She looks at him so sweetly then it reminds him of his childhood; something so familiar, so warm and all his.

“You being honest with me is all I ever ask from you. We all get insecure sometimes; tough, masculine cowboys aren’t an exception.”

He laughs loudly at that. “Tough, masculine cowboys?”

Her hand releases his wrist before she makes a come-hither motion with her finger, waiting for him to lean into her space a bit more. Her hand curls around the back of his neck as she presses their foreheads together.

“I want you to go up there and forget all that crazy stuff in your head, okay? Just play.”

Between her proximity and the way she brought the conversation back to her initial point all have his mind reeling, her breath hitting his lips as she speaks softly. He can do nothing but nod.

“Good.” She smiles, a victorious expression pooling in her eyes.

The next thing he knows she’s pulling his face the remaining inches forward, closing her mouth over his in one definitive moment. It doesn’t last long, but her sweet taste and curious nibble at his lower lip before she lets go of him are enough to shatter every other thought in his brain.

“Go get ‘em, babe.”

 

*

 

He’s gotten through all tour dates, every single one more gratifying and rewarding than the other, but he’s in desperate need to go home and recharge—find his own place in the industry now he’s been so suddenly thrown into it. His come-up has been a long time coming, but when it happened it seemed to not slow down. If circumstances were different, he’d go out and celebrate one last time with his tour buddies, but a certain blonde waiting for him backstage has him thinking differently.

He wonders how things are going to be between them now he’s going back home and she’s undoubtedly going back to California. He knows they’ve stayed in contact throughout the duration of this tour, talking on the phone for as long as their schedules would allow, but he’s totally aware of their changed situations; the pressure suddenly more on.

He notices Gwen’s slim figure leaning against the wall the minute he steps off stage, her smile larger than life as she motions for him to come over. It’s absolutely insane how she’s able to get his unwavering, tunnel-vision attention; everything else in the room besides her nothing but a blur to him.

His guitar is hanging at his side, his strides confident as he approaches her. His hand reaches out for her face, his fingers tangling in the back of her hair as he pulls her closer. He smiles when her arms come around his back instantly.

“Is this how it’s gonna be from now on? Me standing on the sidelines while this incredibly badass cowboy _totally_ overshadows me.”

His voice is a low murmur against her hair. “You and standing on the sidelines don’t go in the same sentence, sweetheart. Neither do you and overshadow.”

The concept of her even thinking that way is mind boggling to say the least, the fact that she still doesn’t quite seem to grasp what he’s been seeing from the start impossible to comprehend. These are insecurities that he doesn’t dare to downplay though, as he hopes he gets enough time with her to do something to erase them.

“I’m gonna miss you.” She whispers, proving that their impending separation hasn’t just been something weighing heavily on _his_ mind.

“Then let’s not talk about it yet.” He opts, smiling against her. “Let’s just enjoy the time we still have together.”

She pulls away from him with a smile on her face, her arms still around him. “What do you suggest we go do with our time?”

Blake tilts his head. “That’s quite a dangerous thing to ask me, darlin’.”

Gwen can’t stop the laugh that erupts from her throat, and her delicately manicured hand does nothing to muffle the sound.

“Fair point.” She concedes. “You wanna grab a bite somewhere?”

He makes an appreciative sound, backing away from her the remaining inches.

“I could go for some food.”

“Good. Me too.”

He expected for it to be awhile before they were actually able to leave the venue, this being the last night and all, but he didn’t foresee how many people would be waiting outside the theatre; not for the main performer, but for him.

In the back of his mind there’s a slight moment of panic at the realization that not only fans are there, but people with cameras are seemingly also interested in his sighting. He wouldn’t mind so much if he didn’t know Gwen was walking right behind him—and despite the respectable distance between them, there’s no way they won’t link her as his company.

He doesn’t get much time to think about it as he’s waved aside by a group of women, asking for an autograph and quick chatter.

He shoots Gwen one apologetic look but she seems nothing but proud in this moment, waving for him to take his time. He remains nice and patient, even though there’s a part of him that just wants to make the best of the short amount of time he and Gwen have left before she leaves for the airport. Normally he’d be way more excited to talk to the people who got him here, who support what he’s been doing so far, and he knows there’s no way he can show his growing frustration at being held back from spending time with Gwen. The group of girls are obviously flustered by him and it’s a weird feeling to know the kind of pull he has now. It’s with another polite nod that he’s finally able to leave the venue behind, leading Gwen back to the back entrance where he knows the rental car is. It’s not until they’re out of sight from any people that she allows her hand to softly graze his back.

“Is that weird for you?” She asks softly, a small smile hanging on her lips.

He shrugs, it almost feeling wrong to complain about. “It’s cool, it’s not natural but it’s also flattering so I won’t complain.”

“It doesn’t look like it’s not.”

He frowns. “It doesn’t look like it’s what?”

“Like it’s _not_ natural for you. You actually look so comfortable with that stuff.”

The car unlocks as he takes the time to look at her for a moment.

“Really?”

She nods. “Maybe you’re just good with people.”

“Am I good with you?”

She blushes at his question, her eyes staring at the ground. He normally would keep himself from asking such a question, knowing they’re taking things slow, but he needs _something_ to keep him going.

“You know you are.” She whispers, looking up to find his gaze nervously.

He smiles gently, motioning for her to get in.

“Let’s get something to eat, what do you say?”

She smiles gratefully when she realizes he’s willing to drop the subject at her shaky answer, not pushing for more.

“Are we gonna be able to get a table anywhere without it making news?”

She lifts herself into the SUV and waits for him to get seated too. He looks out of the windshield before turning his attention back to her, wincing regretfully; he can't believe he didn't think about that beforehand.

“How does a drive-thru sound?”

He’s half expecting her to laugh in his face, but instead he’s met with genuine support and even excitement. He drives them to first fast-food place they can find, his eyes never wavering from her once they parked the car and Gwen has the bag of food secured on her lap. The way she looks through the content so focused while handing him his share has him chuckling out loud, earning him a funny face.

There’s a weird sensation growing in his stomach, part of it nerves and part of it still mind blown by the fact that he has Gwen Stefani hanging out with him. It doesn’t seem fair that he must give up so much time with her all because he wants to go home. He finds himself wishing more than anything that hers was closer to the place he calls home; if he’s completely honest with himself, he finds himself wishing her home was with him.

Distracting himself by allowing himself the pleasure of watching Gwen stuff her face in a burger works for now, her eyes widening as she realizes she’s being observed.

“Ew, Blake, don’t watch me eat. That’s gross.”

Blake chuckles while putting three fries in his mouth.

“How’s that gross?”

“You can’t watch a lady eat.” She retorts quickly, stealing a few of his fries.

He pretends to be shocked, turning away from her. “Hey, you have your own.”

“It’s what you get for watching me like that.” She laughs, ignoring his look of feigned indignation as she steals some more.

“I don’t think I could ever stop looking at you.”

She blushes again, but it’s different than the kind of blush from earlier; this time it’s rooted in lust; the slipping of her control slow but prominent, even as she tries so hard to hide it.

“You’re going to have to.” She says sadly, avoiding his stare.

He wants to get upset at her bringing up leaving again, but he understands why it’s the one thing she needs to hang on to—keeping it like a barrier between them so she doesn’t have to face what’s really there. He gets it, and she’s worth the wait.

He finishes his meal before she does, not in a hurry at all to leave though. The sky is fully dark now, the parking lot deserted, and if it weren’t for his mind trying to stop the clock, this moment would’ve been perfect.

Without thinking about it, his hand ventures down to her leg, resting safely above her knee. He feels her still beneath him for a second, but she manages to compose herself quickly, finishing the rest of her burger as she starts to play with the different radio stations.

“Hope you don’t mind.” She clears her throat after speaking, her voice sounding dry and affected and he feels the air grow heavier at the realization _he’s_ affecting her.

“What’s mine is yours.”

Despite his voice sounding way steadier, his passion for her is radiating off him like waves, the feeling almost too intense to hold on to.

“Technically this car isn’t yours.”

Blake chuckles, over pronouncing every word for dramatic effect. “It _is_ for the night.”

His grip on her leg doesn’t change, but his fingers do start to slowly rub lazy circles over her pants, her breath skipping a little at the enhanced touch. “Hey Gwen?”

She looks up at him surprised, her finger lingering against the button of the radio, about to change the channel again.

“Yeah?”

“Do you know how gorgeous you are?”

She huffs out a breath, breaking their gaze.

“ _Blake_ …”

“Me not being allowed to say it won’t make it any less true.”

She collects their garbage and puts it effectively in the light brown bag, crushing it between her hands as his is still on her leg.

“I don’t know how to respond when you say things like that to me.”

He smiles. “You don’t have to respond. Even though I do love when you smile at me.”

She laughs at that, slapping his shoulder. “You’re crazy, Blake.”

He is, he thinks. He’s crazy about her. He’s crazy for wanting someone this badly again after having his heart broken only a few months prior. He’s crazy for the way he’s willing to put his heart on the line for this woman who’s clearly not sure about what she wants yet. There have been many times in life where he’s chosen to go down the rough path, but never before has he been so reckless with the speed.

“Maybe.” He winks.

She appears as if she wants to say something, but the words dissolve right there on her lips. He’s tempted to ask about it, to urge her to say it anyways, but it seems like all she needed was some time to formulate her thoughts.

“Do you ever miss her?”

The question hits him harder than expected, needing no further elaboration.

“Why do you ask?”

She shakes her head. “Why won’t you answer?”

He chuckles, because her demanding of honesty is something he just associates with her being now, yet there’s not much she’s willing to share with him in this moment.

“I don’t miss her.” He replies despite his inner hesitance. “I miss the security of that relationship though. The knowledge you’re coming home to someone—the knowledge of life still being the same as you’ve always known it.”

“Familiarity.” She whispers softy, her tone missing its usual finesse.

“But that’s what we need to get away from sometimes, don’t we?” He formulates it as a question, giving her time to look up at him, before answering himself. “We stay in situations cause it’s what we’ve known our whole lives, but that doesn’t necessarily make us happy.”

“Maybe life isn’t always about being happy.”

“Then what is it about?”

“Being safe. Doing what’s right in the grand scheme of things, instead of going after what would purely satisfy your own needs.”

Blake chuckles before lowering his head, the mixed signals she’s giving him finally catching up to him with maximum discomfort.

“Is that how you feel, Gwen?” He asks pointedly, his voice a bit sharp even.

“I don’t know, Blake. I don’t know how I feel.”

She must be able to tell he’s not satisfied with her answer as it gives him no more insight, because she’s grabbing his hand from where he retracted it back onto his own leg, her fingers grazing his skin.

“You’re an awesome person, Blake. And I’m not scared of being myself when I’m with you, which is rare…” He’s surprised she’s still holding his gaze, not making any move to break it himself. “You’re asking me something that I can’t give you a definitive answer to, because I’m scared that when I do, I won’t be able to hold on to it.”

“What are you talking about, Gwen? You can— “

“—I’m not good at these types of things.” She cuts him off, her eyes looking apologetically when she does. “I fall for people and then obsess over this version I hope they _can_ be and then once they’re mine, they shatter all my illusions. I let people hurt me and by the time it spirals out of control, I’m too attached to get myself to leave.”

Blake shakes his head, her honesty as refreshing as it is crushing.

“I would never hurt you.”

“Not intentionally.” She smiles, her hand still holding onto his. “But it’s inevitable. I’ll drive you crazy, you’ll realize I’m not this picture-perfect girl and you won’t want me anymore.”

Blake blinks a few times, unable to process everything she’s telling him, nothing making any sense. The more steps they seem to take forward, the more she takes backwards. He’s completely fine with going down the path of this relationship in Gwen’s pace, but her words make it seem like she’s more interested in taking a different road altogether—one where she’ll never be his.

“You keep thinking I see you as this perfect girl who’s not allowed to mess up.”

“Everyone does.” She replies coyly, biting her lip. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” He retorts quickly, shaking his head. “Gwen, it’s nowhere near okay.”

“Whatever then, it’s not okay but it’s the truth.”

The air is so brittle it could snap, and if it doesn’t, he thinks _he_ might. When he looks over at Gwen, he sees a stray tear making its way down her cheek and he wants nothing more than to reach forward and wipe it away, but the tension keeps him firmly in place. He knows she’s scared, the fear of her past relationship so deeply rooted she can’t see herself ever being happy with anyone else.

“I see you for who you are, Gwen.” He tries one more time, his voice gravelly. “I want you for who you are and I’d be crazy not to.”

She shudders out a pained breath, her free hand wiping at her tear-stained cheek.

“It’s not like I don’t…...I mean, I _do_ want you.”

His dad used to tell him that fear was the root of mankind; that he always needed to face fear with courage before he let it go. It’s in this moment that he realizes he can’t; he needs more from Gwen entirely, for him to allow himself to do that.

“I don’t really know what to do with that anymore, Gwen.”

She nods in understanding. “Spending time with you has been magical, Blake. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose _this_.”

“Then don’t.”

“I just need some time.”

He feels tears stinging behind his eyes and panic growing ferociously in his chest, predicting an ending to this story that’s far removed from what he sees in his dreams. He clears his throat before reaching forward, starting up the engine.

He knows it’s a risk to end it here, knowing that once she gets on that plane, it’s ten times easier for her to never return.

It’s a risk he’s totally unwilling to take, but does anyways.

“Then time is exactly what you’ll have, Gwen.”


	6. Chapter 6

_June, 2003._

 

It’s a little passed noon when he arrives, the LA heat hitting him right as he walks off the tarmac. The air around him feels heavy and thick, the smell of diesel reminding him of his whereabouts. He’s sweating by the time he reaches the bottom of the steps, sighing to himself. He doesn’t come out here too often, doesn’t have to for his job, but Gwen is what eventually brings him all the relief he needs.

He’s glad he doesn’t have to go down the arrivals lounge and deal with the huge number of people there, plus the serene look and smell of LAX freaks him out. Luckily for him, Gwen’s waiting for him only a few feet away once he walks off the final step of the stairs.

“Finally.” She squeals as she moves forward and demands a hug, his bags nearly dropping from his hands as he chuckles.

“It’s great to see you too, darlin’.”

She pulls back after a few seconds, looking a bit apologetic as she watches him struggle to balance the large travel bag in one hand. He’s missed feeling her pressed against him like that and wishes she prolonged the hug she initiated, pushing away the disappointment that hovers over him like a thick fog.

“My car isn’t too far from here. You wanna go grab something to eat somewhere before I drive us home?”

He smiles sweetly, motioning for her to lead the way.

“That sounds great.” He says, his free arm coming around her almost involuntarily. “I’m starving.”

He’s somewhat surprised that she’s not initiating more distance, but he’d be a fool to point it out. He’s not quite sure where they stand and he’s determined to find out while he’s here.

“I know a cute place.” She says softly, bumping into him a little bit.

He feels a strange sense of nostalgia at being back in her car, having missed her presence more than he could possibly explain. Getting to spend time with her again—even if it’s here in Los Angeles—is what he’s been desperately needing ever since he drove her to the airport that night after his final show.

She drives them towards a small diner; the place looking a bit hooded as it’s located strangely out of sight; the placement both deliberate and random from a visitor’s perspective.

He slides into the booth next to her, fighting the urge to pull her closer as he reminds himself they’re in public. He’s been calling and texting her ever since they’ve been away from each other, but neither one has dared to speak on their current situation. He doesn’t want to pressure her, but he won’t deny the unsettling feeling in his chest at her obvious reluctance. He uses the menu in front of him to divert his attention to anything but her.

The waitress slowly makes her way down the row of booths, until she stops at the head of theirs.

“What can I get you two?” She asks with a friendly smile, her eyes moving between both parties as she waits for one of them to start talking.

The place isn’t too crowded, which is probably why she managed to get to them so soon, Blake still a bit disoriented.

“I’ll get the omelette on wheat toast and a coffee please.” Gwen rattles off quickly.

Blake does another double take before lowering his menu.

“I’ll have the same as the lady here.” Blake smiles. “With a side of hash browns too, please.”

The young waitress scoops up the laminated menus. “Coming right up.”

A few beats pass before they’re on their own again and Blake takes some time to look around the diner. His hands run up and down his jeans, the excitement of finally being in her presence again, combined with the awkwardness of their feelings, makes him feel somewhat unsettled.

“I missed you.”

He’s staring at the side of her face when she says it, realizing that once her eyes return his gaze she’ll be able to see the surprise on his features.

“I missed you too.” He says truthfully, stretching a little in his seat. “Talking over the phone just isn’t enough.”

She shakes her head, seemingly agreeing with his words. “That’s what it would always be though.”

He raises his eyebrow, his lip caught between his teeth.

“What do you mean?”

There are a million thoughts running through his mind, all of them ending the same. She must feel his intense stare on the side of her face, analysing her like a puzzle he can’t solve—and maybe she is.

He’s always been an observant person, taking in more than some people are willing to give, but this time he _needs_ more.

She tilts her head to look at him. “If we do this, get together I mean.”

He didn’t expect her to address it so precisely, his chest instinctively tightening. “We would have to come see each other more often, that’s for sure.”

“But can we?” She retorts immediately, her eyes hesitantly searching for his gaze. “We’re both busy, are going to be even busier. When would we even have the time?”

“We’ll _make_ time.”

There’s a hint of hurt that settles deeply into his chest at what she’s implying; realizing that the only way this could work was if they’re both equally as invested into making it happen.

“You and I both know it doesn’t always work that way.”

He swallows roughly, unable to meet her gaze.

He’s somewhat relieved when the waitress comes back with their plates, getting a moment to think about what he’s going to say next.

“It won’t always be easy.” He says lowly, after their plates have been brought and the younger looking woman walks off. “But I think it’d be worth it.”

They sit in silence for a while, the only sounds between them are the clinking of cutlery on the porcelain plates.

“You really think I’d be worth it?” She asks suddenly, her eyes slowly lifting to his.

He’s taken aback by the question, realizing she’d been marinating on it for a while, potentially debating whether to even ask it or not. She takes another bite of her omelette as an excuse to not have to engage in eye contact any longer.

“Gwen…” He begins softly, waiting until she hesitantly looks up again. “How can you even ask me that?”

She shakes her head again, her fork toying with a piece of bread on her plate. “I just don’t understand why you like me so much, I guess.”

His hand finally seeks out some physical contact, lowering on her palm as he wordlessly tells her to calm down, making her softly drop the cutlery.

“I could tell you all the ways you blow my mind, but you wouldn’t believe me anyways.” He starts gently, his thumb rubbing circles on the top of her hand. “If you give me a chance, I promise I’ll never stop showing you.”

He doesn’t need to look at her face to know tears are starting to pool in her eyes, her breathing slightly staggering.

“Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?” She chuckles, her hand retreating from his as she places it on her lap. “I mean, I’m insecure and have a whole lot of baggage from my previous relationship. Not to mention all the career stuff…”

He looks at her intensely, even as she’s trying to downplay everything that’s good about herself, she’s still the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

“Nothing you say will change my mind, Gwen.” His voice is unwavering, yet gentle. “But if you don’t want to take the chance, I’ll respect that. Before everything else, you’re my friend.”

She seems to visibly relax at his words, smiling at him softly. “I do want to take the chance.”

Blake’s eyes widen, her words hitting him hard.

“You do?”

She nods, her body leaning into his until her side is fully plastered against his.

“Yeah, I mean no pressure right?” She smiles faintly. “We can just see where this goes…”

Having this conversation with her in public is suddenly his biggest torture, frustrated that there’s not much he can do here, but his free arm comes around her while his fingers trace up and down her arm.

“Yeah.” He concedes. “No pressure.”

She laughs then, a nervous sound. “Maybe just a little bit…”

He pulls away slightly, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “Why?”

She looks up at him with those signature puppy dog eyes, batting her eyelashes in a way that she knows will get him to his knees every single time.

“Well…” She starts hesitantly. “The guys have been asking about you, knowing I’ve hung out with you a few times and all…”

It takes a while for Blake to realize what she’s talking about. “With ‘the guys’, you’re talking about your bandmates?”

She hums in acknowledgment. “Yeah, they want to meet you.”

Aside from the nerves that flare up at the thought of meeting these people who are such a large part of her life, he’s mostly just honoured that she feels ready to have him meet them; knowing how slow Gwen wants to take things, this feels like a huge step.

“Okay, I’d love to meet them.” Blake says casually, a bit confused to see Gwen so nervous to bring it up. “Maybe we can arrange something for tomorrow, since I’m going to be here until the weekend.”

The words have barely left his lips when Gwen winces again, her eyes casting down to her hand in her lap.

“Yeah, about that….”

“ _Gwen_?”

She looks up at him again and then just says it.

“They want to meet you tonight.” She says softly, her eyes pleading with him to understand. “I know it’s short notice and you just got here and you probably wanted to spent tonight with me, but they’ve been asking for a while and I just couldn’t say no.”

He shifts against the booth slightly, his arm still around her as he takes her words in. A part of him feels a little disappointed since he was excited about getting to spend his first night back with _just_ her, but it’s her guilt-ridden and nervous expression that snaps him out of it quickly.

“Where are we meeting them?”

Her eyes widen again, her hand coming to rest on his chest.

“You’re not upset?”

He shakes his head, smiling widely. “Baby, why would I be upset? I have three more days with you and hopefully a lot more in the future. I can share you for _one_ night.”

She smiles in relief, biting her lip. “Tony invited us to his place at 7:30.”

He grabs her hand that’s laying on his chest and squeezes softly, lifting it up to his mouth before placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

“I’m ready, darlin’.”

*

He doesn’t know where their day went, but between bringing his stuff to her house, snuggling up on the couch for a while and helping Gwen run some errands, he gets about twenty minutes of really kissing up on her before she’s jumping out of his grip and grabs both their coats. He wants to act annoyed about it, but her excitement is impossible to ignore, bubbling over to him in no time. There are still nerves present, knowing that this is more than just meeting her band—this is a test to see if he can find footing in her life. He wants to impress, but most importantly, he wants Gwen to have zero doubts about pursuing whatever this is with him.

He knows he’s probably way over his head the moment they arrive at Tony’s place. The house is significantly smaller than the one Gwen calls home, but large nonetheless. He’s slightly surprised when she grabs his hand before the door swings open, apparently not hiding the fact that they’ve decided to go for it as a couple.

The smaller looking guy lights up at the sight of Gwen on his doorstep, while a nod is the most Blake gets. Gwen steps forward to hug her friend, momentarily letting go of Blake’s hand.

“Tony, this is Blake. Blake this is Tony.”

She pulls away from his embrace to step aside a little, her hand waving in between the two men. He can tell she’s a bit taken aback by the awkwardness that ensues, and he takes it upon himself to try and quickly get rid of it.

“Hey man, nice to meet you.” Blake’s relieved when Tony meets him halfway, shaking his hand a bit faintly. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Tony nods, looking him up and down. “Likewise.”

His tone makes it hard for Blake to decipher whether that’s a good or bad thing, but he can’t imagine Gwen having said anything negative about him to her friends. He looks down at his hand when Gwen takes a hold of it again, squeezing in support.

The house interior isn’t anything like Blake has seen before; the walls are on the lighter side of brown, instruments stacked up everywhere. The large windows make the place seem even bigger, erasing much sense of ‘home’ to Blake. They haven’t made it two steps into the living room before the other guys’ approach to introduce themselves; these interactions luckily going smoother than the one he just had with Tony.

He watches as Gwen embraces all her bandmates, the flowery dress she’s wearing fitting her perfectly as it hugs her in all the right places, moving elegantly with her as she stands on her tiptoes to hug the guy who just introduced himself as Adrian.

He feels a bit out of place all the sudden, not necessarily being shut out, but also realizing after a while that he’s not making the social moves he expected he would. Sat on the large leather couch, it takes about two minutes before Gwen is whisked away to another corner of the room, unable to escape the conversation Tom suddenly pulled her in. He urges his own nerves to calm down, realizing that if he wants to make a better impression, he needs to do so without Gwen’s help.

He crosses the room in a rare moment of bravery, his feet dragging him over to where the smaller man is standing, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Tony, am I right?” Blake reaches out his hand again, waiting for the rock star to return the favour. He smiles friendly when Tony engages in the handshake lightly, his lips a thin line in response to him.

“Thanks for inviting me. Gwen told me a hell of a lot about you guys.”

The words come out smoothly, but the delivery seems to do nothing for the man—the nerves he tried so desperately to talk down before, appearing again with a vengeance.

“Yeah, she told us a lot about you too.” Tony replies almost a minute later, his voice lacking all hospitality. “So you’re from Oklahoma, I heard.”

Blake nods fiercely. “Born and raised.”

“That’s gotta be quite the culture clash.” The man replies quickly. “You must hate it here.”

Any other time, Blake would’ve had no problem admitting to that statement, but something about the way Tony spoke these words just now makes him reconsider.

“It ain’t too bad.” Blake smiles. “Gwen makes it undeniably better though.”

Tony looks up at the mention of Gwen’s name, an unfamiliar expression colouring his face. He doesn’t know the guy well enough to read him, but the reaction doesn’t go unnoticed.

“She makes everything better.” Tony corrects him, once again making him feel like there’s more history there than Gwen let on. “Look, _obviously_ we can’t tell her what to do and she makes her own decisions, but we’re a rock band and it comes with a certain lifestyle—one that you won’t be able to change.”

Blake’s eyes narrow, a bitter taste coating his tongue at what the other man just implied.

“I don’t want to change her.” Blake counters quickly.

“How else do you see this working out?”

He has a whole bunch he wants to say to that, but swallows them all down in fear of escalating what’s already a flammable situation. He tries to keep his own anger at bay, dealing with the man’s judgements as they come.

“I don’t want to change her.” Blake repeats, keeping his voice steady. “If anything, I just want to be there watching her be herself.”

He can see Tony swallow hard, looking down at the ground before looking back up to the space between them.

“She’s naïve sometimes.” He looks up at Blake again, making sure the words land exactly the way they’re supposed to. “She doesn’t always see people’s true intentions.”

Blake’s demeanour cracks slightly, some of his frustration bubbling up to the surface.

“Maybe you’re not giving her enough credit.”

He can tell his words didn’t go over well, but before Tony has any time to respond, he feels a hand on his arm before Gwen appears next to him, momentarily halting their conversation.

“Everything okay over here?” She smiles sweetly, her body leaning into him a bit.

He doesn’t miss the way Tony grimaces at the sight of her so close to him and the silence that follows between the three adults gives him enough time to puzzle some pieces together.

“I was just telling Blake he better not hurt you.”

Gwen’s eyes widen in a bit of shock, shaking her head. “Tony, please don’t do that.”

“I’m just saying, Gwen….” He looks back and forth between him and Gwen, his stare just as hostile but his voice considerably kinder with her there. “You just got out of a horrible relationship only to try your luck with some country guy who doesn’t know shit about what we do.”

“Tony!”

“Gwen, it’s okay.” Blake’s hand lands on her upper arm, urging her to look at him.

Blake retorts to his play-it-cool method to try and hide his inner turmoil; the last thing he wants is to be the cause of trouble between her and the people who mean most to her.

She complies and looks at him for a second before diverting her gaze back to her friend.

“It’s not okay.” She takes a deep breath, her hand intertwining with Blake’s. “There’s a reason why I like him so much, Tony. He’s good to me. If you won’t respect him than we’re leaving.”

Despite her challenging tone, he can see her choking back tears, knowing her well enough to know that she’s struggling. She lets out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding, and Blake can’t help but put his arm around her waist. He’s just about to speak up when he realizes it’s not just the three of them anymore.

He clears his throat, but then goes for it anyways, his stance suddenly becoming a bit more confident as he’s determined to put an end to this.

“I get that this is new for all of us and I understand if it’s gonna take some time getting used to. I don’t claim to know everything about your lifestyle, but I know about my feelings; I like Gwen and unless she tells me differently, I ain’t going anywhere.”

He feels her small hand squeeze his arm in support, the look she gives him one of stunned surprise.

“Hey man, I’m sorry! We should’ve been a bit more welcoming, it’s just that we need to look out for Gwen a bit, you know?”

This time it’s Tom who speaks up, his hand patting Blake’s shoulder twice.

“I totally understand.” Blake looks away from Tony, who still looks a bit unimpressed. “It makes me feel a whole lot better to know she’s surrounded by people who care so much.”

“Blake, if you want to go home….” Gwen’s voice reaches his ear hesitantly, her body turning into his.

“No, stay.” Tom interrupts. “They literally made me buy enough beer to hydrate an army; stay, have a drink.”

He’s a bit stunned at how quickly the conversation seems to have turned around, smiling a bit awkwardly.

“Are you sure?” Gwen asks again, her face still betraying the level of hurt she feels at the less than warm welcome.

“Yeah, I want to get to know your friends.” He smiles, placing a quick kiss to her cheek. “I’m fine, darlin’. Really.”

She smiles softly, her features finally softening a bit. He’s a bit hesitant to leave her alone after she tells him she needs a moment with Tony, but he decides against protesting. The rest of the evening goes much smoother, the conversation with Tom and Adrian much easier than he expected; both guys seemingly warming up to him quickly.

It’s after about twenty minutes that Gwen still hasn’t joined them back on the couch, still in deep conversation with her friend on the other side of the room.

There’s a bit of uncomfortableness as he can do nothing but observe their obvious closeness, despite Gwen looking a bit guarded—he guesses because of her friend’s earlier behaviour.

“Hey, don’t worry about it man. She’s probably just scolding him for giving you such a hard time.”

Adrian smiles knowingly as he catches Blake staring at the two. Here in a different state, an unfamiliar house and altogether new people, he’s finally starting to feel overwhelmed by it all.

“He seems really protective of her.” Blake muses softly, to no one in particular.

“It’s a common thing with everyone she shows interest in. Honestly, I’m just glad we’ve been able to stay together after their break up.”

His lips hover against the beer bottle in his hand, lowering it slowly as Tom confirms what he’s silently been piecing together for himself ever since they arrived here.

“Shit, you didn’t know?” His facial expressions must’ve given him away, because her bandmate scrambles to make up for what he just let slip. “I thought she’d told you.”

Blake shakes his head, waving his hand dismissively. “She didn’t, but it’s okay. I kinda figured there had to be more history there.”

“Yeah, but still…”

“It’s okay.” His eyes venture over to Gwen again, biting his lip hard.

Memories of being left out of the loop overload his system, making him feel overwhelmingly empty. He knows there’s still a lot to discover about each other, but he can’t seem to wrap his mind around why she wouldn’t give him the heads up about this before coming here.

No matter how hard he works at getting her full trust, there always seems to remain an invincible layer between them that he can’t break down. Bitterness rises like a bile into his mouth, leaving him with no choice but to swallow it down.

“Well hey, if it makes you feel any better, it was a messy break. Neither one are interested in going back there—they’re just friends.”

He tries to wrap his head around Gwen being in a band with her ex and her proceeding to keep it from him, but his thoughts are all running through each other. He inhales deeply, trying his best at a carefree expression when he looks back at his two new friends.

“These songs, are they about him?”

Tom nods. “It’s weird, but it works.”

His brain feels like it’s short circulating with the amount of information he’s digesting all at once, his fingers subconsciously tightening around his bottle.

“ _What_ works?”

He looks up at the sound of her voice behind him, her hand landing on his shoulder as she sits down next to him. That familiar scent he now associates with Gwen floods his senses again and for a moment he’s brought back to everything that’s safe and easy.

“We were talking about how you and Tony found a way to still make the band work, considering, well, the obvious.”

Blake tries to keep all the emotions he feels under control, watching as Gwen flinches at his direct response. She opens her mouth to say something, but decides against it quickly.

“We’re sorry, we thought he knew already.” Tom says quickly, noticing the way Gwen falters.

She doesn’t say anything, just nods and it might be more frustrating than anything she could’ve possibly said. He tries to focus on the fact that she’s close to him again, her ex-boyfriend sitting a few feet away. He doesn’t consider himself to be a jealous person, but between the overly dramatic reaction from Tony to his arrival, to the hiding of the nature of their relationship by Gwen, something feels way off and it’s a feeling he just can’t shake.

The rest of the night goes by as somewhat of a blur. He’s thankful to find out Tom wasn’t lying when he said he had a huge beer storage, the alcohol helping a bit with his socializing. He notices Gwen glancing over at him often, trying to gauge his reaction. He knows she probably wants to talk about everything that had happened tonight, her own impatience becoming painfully obvious.

It’s a little past midnight when they finally decide to go home, saying their goodbyes rather quickly. He’s been able to get some good conversations going with the guys overall, resulting in actually getting the phone numbers of both Adrian and Tom. While Gwen’s off saying goodbye to them, he’s caught a bit off guard at the offer of a handshake from Gwen’s former lover.

“I want to apologize for my behaviour earlier. I’m glad she has you.”

His handshake is much firmer than it was when he first got here, causing Blake to frown a bit. He doesn’t know what exactly Gwen told him while they were off talking to each other for nearly half an hour, but it must’ve done something.

“I appreciate that, brother. Again, thanks for having me.”

He doesn’t understand how he manages at the words coming out so friendly, an uneasy feeling still very much present in the pit of his stomach.

They retreat quickly after that, Gwen appearing at his side next. “Ready to go?”

He just nods, holding the door for her as she steps out. He follows her down around the corner to where she parked her car, neither one saying a word. It’s not until they’re both seated, both hands on the steering wheel, that she finally looks at him. She waits with starting the engine, her face full of nerves.

“Blake, I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you.”

He swallows roughly, his head turning to look at her. “Why didn’t you?”

“Gavin used to have such a problem with it. I didn’t know how to tell you without fighting about it.”

His body feels tense, the comparison to Gavin not doing much to help him either. His jaw locks painfully tight, his feelings a mess of things—unable to form one coherent thought.

“You dated him before Gavin?”

Gwen nods softly. “I dated him for about six years on and off. We’ve been broken up for about 9 years now though, Blake—that part of my life is over.”

“You sure he’s over it?” Blake counters, his eyebrow raising as he refers to Tony’s earlier behaviour.

“He’s just extra protective.”

“That wasn’t him being protective, Gwen; that was him being _jealous_.”

Gwen’s eyes widen at his sudden change of tone, his annoyance obvious now.

“We’re over, Blake.” She states again, her hand moving from the steering wheel to his arm. He ignores her touch, but she doesn’t retract her hand. “I’ve been there, done that. Trust me, I don’t want him anymore.”

“You say I need to trust you, but you lied to me, Gwen.”

She shakes her head, her hand squeezing his arm now. “I didn’t lie, Blake. I was going to tell you.”

“ _When_?”

She opens her mouth to say something, but can’t seem to get the words out. Her gaze lowers to her lap, taking a deep breath.

“I don’t know.” She admits softly. “Probably after this trip. I just wanted to have a good time with you first.”

Some of the anger he feels turns into something else at the sound of her fragile voice, her demeanour having lost all its confidence.

“I’m not _him_ , Gwen. You could’ve told me; you should’ve known that.”

She nods again, her eyes meeting his. “I should’ve told you, I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s hard for you to trust me, I know that too.”

His words visibly startle her, her breath hitching. “I _do_ trust you. I still get super insecure sometimes, but it literally scares me how much I trust you. I just feel like I’m always making things more complicated and for once, I just wanted things to be easy for you.”

His hand reaches out for the side of her face, his thumb and index finger holding her chin gently.

“When are you going to realize that you don’t have to hide these parts of yourself? I like _you_ , Gwen—and everything that comes with it. I just don’t want you to shut me out.”

He sees tears pool in her eyes, the sound of her swallowing loud in the silent car.

“You’re so good to me, Blake. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you right away.”

He takes a moment to let the silence take over after her words, his thumb gently stroking her cheek.

“I’m not angry with you, okay?” He says softly, waiting for her to look him in the eye. “And if you say it’s over between you and Tony, I believe you. This doesn’t change anything for me.”

She sighs in relief, her hand searching for his. “You mean that?”

“I just want you.”

They stay tangled up like that for about ten more minutes before they reluctantly pull away, Gwen’s slim fingers reaching for the ignition as she finally drives them home.

 

*

He pushes the door closed behind her, his eyes adjusting to the dark room as Gwen lowers her purse on the dinner table. She lets out a quiet moan as she takes off her heels, Blake losing his own shoes and coat before invading her personal space with a vengeance. They’ve done enough talking for the day, his hands itching to replace his words.

Blake crowds her, pushing her up against the wall until he can visibly see her breath catch. His hands securely grab her hips, keeping her from squirming too much as he licks and sucks at her neck. Her hands fly to the back of his head, her fingers gliding into his hair.

“Blake, do you— “

“—I don’t want to talk.” He cuts her off, thrusting his hips forward again as he makes sure she knows he’s taking charge right now. “We’ve done enough of that, okay?”

She tries to speak, but words seem to fail her as she settles for a small nod. It takes him a few more minutes to realize that her grip on him is deterring him from what he’s trying to do, lacing their fingers together as he presses them into the wall on either side of her head.

He can sense she’s growing restless, but he’s not about to rush this. She moans loudly when he bites down on her collarbone and she turns her head to return the favour at the flesh of his wrist.

“ _Finally_.” She gasps, his lips parting in a smile as he realizes he hasn’t been the only one who’s been waiting for this; all the tension of the night and their patience ever since they met finally being awarded.

Her body slides against his as she lifts one leg and wraps it around his thigh. Blake releases her hands, overwhelmed by the need to touch her. His hands roam over her body, traveling from her hips to her clothed breasts, skating back down to cup her ass.

“Blake.” She moans softly, his hands never leaving her backside. “Let’s move to the bed, I don’t want our first time to be…. not here.”

Suddenly unable to control himself, he leans down to place a quick but deep kiss on her lips. He intertwines their fingers together as he walks them back to the bedroom, her shoulder bumping into his back. It’s the first time since things have slowed down for a second that he recognizes the sound of rain pouring violently against the windows and he finds something poetic in it; the chaos of the outside weather contrasted against the peace they’ve managed to find within one another.

He reaches the bed and sits on the edge, pulling her forward to stand between his legs. Much to his delight—and his torture—her dress comes off immediately, leaving her standing there in nothing but her black bra and underwear. Returning the tease, he trails kisses along her stomach and revels in the quickness in which her hands are back in his hair, absentmindedly.

“Fuck Blake, please….” She whispers against the quiet of the room, his teasing touches apparently not enough.

He quickly pulls her onto the bed and manoeuvres her underneath him. She watches him with hooded eyes, occasionally closing them as his finger circles her knee before sliding up to her inner thigh.

“Touch me.” She whimpers, turning her head into his shoulder. “Please, Blake.”

Unable to take her needy voice and gorgeous legs opening wider for him, he gets rid of the final piece of fabric that keeps her from him. Her hips buck when his finger slides inside of her and he feels her clamp down around him. He rolls his body onto hers more firmly, pinning her to the matrass with his chest.

“Take this off.” She hisses, clawing at his shirt.

He doesn’t even want to think about retracting his hand from where he’s buried deep inside her and shakes his head no.

“Later.”

She leans up to capture his lips in a deep kiss, sucking at his lower lip before she lets go. She licks the shell of his ear and chuckles when he shudders against her.

“No, now.”

He chuckles at her desperation and instead of giving her what she wants, he slides his way down her body and nips at the sensitive skin. She arches off the bed a little, the duvet clenched tightly in both of her hands.

“Oh my _god_ ….”

He drags the flat of his tongue over her sensitive flesh, flicking the tip against her clit. He doesn’t get deterred by the bucking of her hips, if anything, he’s motivated by it. Even when one of her hands flies to his hair again and holds him against her almost painfully tight, he can’t do anything but smile against her.

“Blake, please don’t stop.”

“I won’t.” He murmurers, smiling as he realizes the vibrations of his voice against her brings her that much closer to the finish line.

Knowing it won’t be long now, he runs his free hand across the sheets and manages to pry the cotton out of her hands as he laces their fingers together. She looks down at him and lets her hand fall from where it’s digging into his scalp, using her free hand to push a stray hair out of his face.

“I’m so close, Blake.” Her eyes never advert from his and there’s something incredibly hot about realizing she’s watching him pleasure her.

“Let go, baby. I know you want to.”

Her eyes slam shut and her head drops back when her orgasm hits. He watches her body twitch, his name falling off her lips in broken fragments. She comes in waves, pleasure rising and cresting repeatedly.

When she regains some strength, she urges him up and he complies immediately. He moves up her body and braces himself above her on his forearms. She kisses him ferociously, her tongue battling his. He drops his weight slightly, letting himself press her more firmly into the matrass again, her nails scraping against his clothed back.

“Now _please_ ….” She whispers against his lips. “Take it off.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He laughs into her neck, before pulling himself up and tossing his shirt to the side. Knowing what’s coming next, he doesn’t even let the question leave her lips as he moves out of his pants and boxers, and throws them somewhere on the ground next to his shirt.

“I need to be inside you right now, Gwen.” His voice sounds rough to his own ears, his arousal mounting as he can’t spend another moment not being inside her. “Are you okay for that?”

She smiles devilishly, motioning for him to get a condom from the nightstand. It’s less than a minute before she appears to be done letting him control the pace, both of her hands pushing at his shoulder until he’s beneath her. He lets her have the control in this moment, shivering as she leans down enough for her nipples to brush against his naked chest.

“ _Gwen_.”

He groans out her name when she collides with his erection, her slick center slipping against the tip. His hands grasp her ass roughly, his hips thrusting on their own accord.

“I thought you wanted to take things slow, savour the moment…”

She does a good job at hiding the desperation in her voice, but the shivers going up and down her own arms give her away.

“I think there’s nothing you want less right now.” He teases right back, pulling her down more firmly into his groin.

She moans at the pressured contact, sitting herself upright as she takes him in her hand. His hands move from her ass to her hips, his eyes closing as she seems finally ready to do something.

“Gwen…” He says roughly, words becoming harder and harder to speak. She looks at him way too innocently for someone who has her hand wrapped tightly around his cock. “Please.”

Eyes locked with his, she starts to finally sink down. He fights the urge to close his eyes as he needs to watch this; the look on her face as he slowly fills her all the way makes him grunt loudly. When she’s fully settled onto him, her pelvis flush with his, he allows himself a moment to close his eyes and reel in the feeling and knowledge that this is really happening.

She moves against him in earnest, her hips lifting and rolling. They establish a rhythm quite quickly, and he’s sure he won’t last long.

“God, you’re killing me.”

His gaze keeps drifting back to where their bodies are joined and unable to resist, he moves his hand between her legs and searches for that bundle of nerves with two fingers. He rubs slow circles, knowing he’s got her right where he wants her when her gasps become more uncontrollable.

“Blake!” Gwen’s head falls back, exposing the long line of her throat.

Bending his knees slightly, he wraps his arms around her waist and sits up. She can do nothing but cry out in this position, as she clings to his shoulders. He kisses her deeply, teasing her mouth with his tongue as they gently rock together. She whimpers against his mouth, her teeth digging into his bottom lip.

“Come for me.” He whispers against her collarbone, dipping his tongue into the hollow behind her ear. “I got you, Gwen. Come on.”

She groans his name and drops her forehead to his shoulder. It only takes a few more seconds for her to shudder in his arms, her hips twisting violently against his as her orgasm ripples tough her body for the second time that night. It’s enough to send him over the edge too, her name ripped from his chest.

He cradles her so close that for a moment he’s afraid he’s hurting her. Her sweet smile smooths over his worries, especially when she lowers her head on his shoulder and continues to cling on to him.

He can’t move yet. For the first time in his life has he enjoyed sex with every fibre of his being—both physically emotionally satisfied by it. His chest heaves as he holds on to her.

“That was…. _wow_.” He looks at her, trailing off in a suggestive tone.

“Fucking amazing cowboy.” She trails her hand along his bicep, softly kissing at his neck. “Just give me a minute, I can’t even remember my own name right now.”

He grins at her words, his hand slipping over her ass and squeezing. “Give you a minute to do what?”

She smiles as her eyes close, her head lifting to meet his gaze.

“Round two.” She mumbles. “There’s more of where that came from.”

He flips them both as he manoeuvres her back underneath him, her squeal caught by his own mouth. She chuckles against his lips, making him pull away shortly. The look in her eyes is one of want and admiration, mirroring everything he feels inside his chest.

He kisses her again promptly, keeping his mouth busy so he doesn’t spill the three words that have been laying on the tip of his tongue for months now.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been so busy with work lately, but I wanted to give you guys another chapter. I don’t feel too confident about this one, but hopefully you enjoy it anyways! Thanks to everyone who’s still interested :-)

 

 _June_ , _2003_  
   
 

Streaks of sunlight penetrate through the light curtains, a chuckle escaping the back of his throat as he observes the ridiculous things; it must hang for the sole purpose of decoration, since it does nothing to block the light. He moves his hands over his eyes, blinking a few times into the darkness of his palm. The moment he uncovers his face though, there’s no room for any frustration. Gwen always looks gorgeous, but there’s something about watching her in the early hours of the morning, her blonde hair glowing against the white of her bedsheets, her arm subconsciously having reached for him in the middle of the night.  
   
It has only been one night so far, but his control has completely been shattered. He’s dreamed about what this moment would be like, but nothing compares to the reality of her elegant body pressed against him in _her_ bed. He wonders if she imagined the same thing repeatedly before it happened; whispering his name while he _wasn’t_ beside her, moaning it softly when she nuzzled into her pillow imagining it was him.  
   
She must have some sort of telepathic connection to him, because she starts stirring the moment his thoughts run away from him. He watches as she moves onto her side, her hand going to his cheek as her thumb rubs the place behind his ear.  
   
“How long have you been awake?” She murmurs lowly, her morning voice raspier than he’s ever heard it before and it’s a complete fucking turn on.  
   
“Not that long.” He replies, his arm going over her waist in an attempt to push her closer to him. She smiles a knowing grin before complying and letting herself be pushed against his chest completely. “You know your curtains are complete shit right?”  
   
She looks up at him with wide eyes before bursting out laughing.  
   
“Okay first off, these are _sheer_ curtains.” She corrects him with a chuckle. “And they are beautiful.”  
   
He shakes his head, pointing at them.

“They don’t keep any light out, that’s not the purpose of a curtain.”  
   
“Don’t you know a thing about room decoration?”  
   
“All I know is that these _sheer_ curtains are the reason I’m awake right now.”  
   
She suddenly gets a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, her teeth biting down softly onto her bottom lip before she manoeuvres herself on top of him with one swift movement.  
   
“I’m sorry, Blake.” She purrs lowly, one hand on his cheek and the other one on his chest to keep herself upright. “Let me make it up to you.”  
   
His hand squeezes her upper thigh, his heart doing weird flips at getting to be this way with her now, despite the arousing atmosphere she created.  
   
“How do you plan on doing that?” He says coyly. “I don’t know if you _can_ make up for it.”  
   
He can see it in her eyes that she accepted his challenge, not needing any verbal reassurance. Her eyes fall to his lips blatantly, but they’re her fingers that make it there first. Her fingertips caress his lips like a kiss, trickling down to his chin, down to his throat.  
   
“I think I know a few ways.” She whispers, never breaking eye contact.  
   
It becomes clear that he started a game he has no chance of winning; the eroticism that oozes of Gwen in this moment something he hasn’t yet had directed at him, only having seen some of it shimmering through on stage, when she loses herself in the rawness of it all.  
   
He combes some of her hair back from her forehead when she leans forward a little bit, her lips soon replacing the trail her fingers made before. Blake sucks in a breath when she sucks at the place behind his ear, her hands in his hair as she makes her way back to his mouth.  
   
Her skimpy nightgown that does just as little to conceal as these damn curtains do, comes off in a matter of seconds, her lips curled into a sexy grin.  
   
His hands land on each side of her hips, his thumbs rubbing slow circles along the soft skin there.

“God Gwen, you’re so sexy.”  
   
Her lips nip at his, hovering against him there. “You wanna keep talking or are you ready to make love to me now?”  
   
He doesn’t need to be told twice.

Gently, he pulls her lip between his teeth and sucks softly, making her whimper into his mouth. They only pull apart momentarily to line him up at her center, breathing deeply as he plunges her in one deep stroke. It doesn’t take her long before she intensifies their movements, her hands greedy in his hair still, tugging and squeezing in rhythm to the dirty gyration on top of him.  
   
He holds onto her hips, watching the way her eyes roll back when he hits the deepest spot inside of her, feeling the way she clenches and pulses around him with every motion.

“God damn.” He grunts, the feeling of her surrounding him the closest thing he’ll find to heaven.

He slowly lets his hand slide up to cover her breasts, massaging her nipples between his fingers as she consumes him completely.  
   
“Fuck yes!” She whimpers loudly, her composure faltering slightly.  
   
When her body starts shuddering, he knows she’s close and he’s not far behind. When she tightens and shakes around him, it takes all his strength to hold out and let her ride it out. She collapses against his chest, her head buried in his shoulder as he keeps up the deep, deliberate strokes.

When she shakes again, he lets go and feels the thunder roll through her once more as they explode for a second time.  
   
With her, he finds a unity of souls that translates into every aspect of what they are. He’s close to believing it’s all a dream, but her leg tossed haphazardly around his own a few minutes later, is all the proof he needs to know this is indeed real. When he regains some more strength, his lips come forward to her forehead and place a soft kiss there.  
   
“Did I make up for it?” She asks, her tone now sweet instead of sexual. Her many layers and sides have his mind reeling sometimes.  
   
He chuckles. “Yeah, turned out you _did_ know some ways.”

Her fingers trail his upper arm gently and he wonders if every touch from her feels like perfection—he thinks it just might.  
   
“You’re really great, you know that?”  
   
He raises his eyebrow, a soft grin on his lips. “You weren’t too bad yourself.”  
   
“I didn’t mean just _now_ though...” She says softly, her fingers continuing the motion on his arm, “...how patient you’ve been with me—and still are. The way you’ve been there for me ever since we met and came through on all your promises; I’ve never had that before.”  
   
Her words feel like the roof suddenly disappeared and the sun was able to shine down on his skin directly, a warmth spreading through his chest.  
   
“And then there’s the way you handled last night….” She lets her voice trail off, a hint of sadness in her words.  
   
“Gwen, don’t even mention it.”  
   
“No I should.” She retorts quickly, looking up at him so gently it silences him completely. “I know you’re super sweet and you’re willing to let it go, but that wasn’t okay and you totally were the bigger person.”  
   
His hand ventures down her back, sliding up until he reaches her shoulder. “After all you’ve been through, you deserve someone who makes an effort, Gwen.”  
   
“You did more than that.” She smiles, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Last night meant everything to me.”  
   
Hearing her speak these words eases over the last remnants of frustration he felt over the night in question, his features softening.  
   
“Just imagine how much easier the next time will be.” He grins, trying to ease the last strands of anxiety out of her mind. “It can only go up from here.”  
   
She smiles sweetly, her hand sliding up to his shoulder and stilling there.

“It seemed like you actually got along pretty well with Adrian and Tom.”  
   
He nods, pulling her a little closer.  
   
“They’re great.” He kisses the top of her head, shaking her a little. “Please stop stressing about this now; we’re fine, _they’re_ fine.”

She chuckles against him, her arm coming around his waist as she crawls against him fully. He holds her for about half an hour; the curtains letting enough light through for him to appreciate the radiant beauty in his arms.  
   
   
*  
   
   
He was hesitant about leaving the house that day, knowing that Gwen had about zero anonymity here in Los Angeles and _that_ paired with him being here and last night’s shenanigans, he just wasn’t sure she was up for that. She smoothed over his worries with swift determination and he was hopeless to do whatever she wanted; his abilities to deny this woman anything pretty much non-existent.  
   
Things went well for close to twenty minutes, before they found themselves in a small deli. To his big surprise, people had left them alone for the most part; some distant chatter and eyeballs lingering just a little too long the most they’d get; there was nothing too intrusive about it. He felt confident enough to snake a hand around her back as they waited their turn, the feeling of Gwen’s sudden tensing a tangible thing against his arm.  
   
He looks down at her worried, shaking her a little when she doesn’t return the contact he was trying to make.

“Gwen, you okay?”  
   
Her head nods towards the right, waiting for his eyes to follow her stare. His gaze lands on a small rack of magazines against the soft green wall; delicatessen and gossip magazines all up for grabs for eager deli-consumers. He blames her better eyesight for the quick spotting of her source of anxiety, as it takes him a minute longer. It’s a bit surreal to see his own face on one of these things, as he barely thought of himself as a celebrity. What’s even more surreal though, is to see he’s sharing the cover with Gwen and Gavin; a juicy and far-from-the-truth headline hinting at a possible cheating scandal.  
   
Her eyes finally move up to him again, the shaking of her voice making him feel helpless in a whole new way.  
   
“These pictures are from that night after you finished tour.” She whispers, tears stinging behind her eyes. “As far as people know I was still with Gavin at that time.”  
   
His mind goes back to when they found her ex-boyfriend sucking face with someone who wasn’t Gwen in one of the venue’s restrooms, wincing at the memory. What’s worse is that they’re now seeing _her_ as the source of their break-up.  
   
Yet, there’s a part of his mind that can’t shut out the part of him that’s more careless and nonchalant about these types of things.  
   
“Gwen, they know _nothing_.” Blake whispers against her ear, holding her a bit tighter as she seems to be close to falling apart. “You can’t live your life putting any weight to the things you read—they’re just trying to sell copies.”  
   
She shakes her head violently, looking up at him pleadingly. “Can we get out of here?”  
   
He nods swiftly, food long forgotten.

She’s tense the whole ride back, unable to meet his gaze for longer than a few seconds. Images of that night the magazines were reporting on flood his mind all the way home; unable to wrap his mind around the craziness of it all.  
   
They’ve barely set foot in her house when she’s walking away from him, seemingly reaching for her phone. He keeps a bit of distance, not exactly knowing what she needs and deciding to just wait it out a bit longer. It’s not until she lets the phone clatter out of her hands onto the dinner table, that he steps forward.  
   
“Gwen…”

“My manager…” She chokes out. “Apparently, its front-page news on pretty much all tabloids.”  
   
Blake smooths a hand over his face, exhaling loudly.

“Gwen, I’m so sorry.”  
   
The tears she’d been holding in at the deli find their escape now, both her hands resting on the table in front of her as she hangs forward a little.  
   
“This is just great.” She cries. “He fucks around and we’re gonna get all the blame for it.”  
   
“Baby, we— “

“—And not just that, all _our_ privacy is now gone too; you realize that people are gonna be all over us now, right? Wherever we go, whatever we do.”  
   
A panicked feeling rises in his chest, but he tries his best at pushing it down for Gwen’s sake; her small frame shaking with sobs.  
   
“Come here.” He walks towards her slowly, holding his arm out, but she backs away instead of meeting him in the middle.  
   
“You shouldn’t have to deal with this.” She exclaims shakily, her hands in front of her like a barrier, some sort of protection from the world—from _him_. “They’re going to drag my name through the mud like crazy and as long as you associate yourself with me, yours will be too.”

“I don’t care about that, Gwen.” He says steadily, his eyes pleading with her to see the honesty in them.  
   
“You should.” She fires back immediately, the tears still flowing freely down her cheeks. “You’re making such big moves, you’re literally at the start of a mindblowing career—you don’t need this.”  
   
Her words make him dizzy, his chest constricting painfully.  
   
“Baby, this is not gonna ruin our careers, I don’t believe that for a second.” He fights the urge to walk closer to her again, knowing she needs to come to him herself, when she’s ready.

“Besides, _this_ ….” He waves a hand between them both. “This is what matters to me right now. I don’t give a damn about what some cheap, shitty magazine has to say.”  
   
“I don’t know what to do.” She whispers in broken fragments. “I feel like everything is going to fall apart and I’m gonna lose you, and my image will be shattered forever, I can’t— “  
   
“—Gwen, please listen to me.” He didn’t want to interrupt her, but he needs to get through to her. “You’re _not_ going to lose me.”  
   
He speaks the words but he doesn’t feel like they register; his worries only growing when she talks again. Her words sound like she doesn’t have enough time to say what she needs to; her words crowded together, her sentences fragmented.  
   
“I shouldn’t have walked out with you that night, I should’ve thought about the fact that there could be cameras. What if they use this to discredit anything I do from now on? What if it effects everything I worked for and _oh_ _my_ _god_ —the band. I ruined everything and now I’m gonna ruin you too, please Blake you can’t let me do that…. _please_ don’t let me do that to you.”  
   
His hands move to her shoulder swiftly, ignoring the start of a protest on her lips. He let her panic long enough, not wanting to spend another second standing there watching.  
   
“Calm down baby, you’re panicking and you’re barely breathing. Let’s slow down for a second, okay?”  
   
He watery eyes look up at him in a bit of defeat, nodding softly. He’s relieved when she lets him pull her closer into him, both arms coming around her back as he steadies her against his chest. Her small body continues to shake against him, soft whimpers and sobs hitting his shirt.  
   
“I feel dizzy.” She says softly, not moving an inch.  
   
“You wanna lay down?”  
   
“ _Yeah_.” Blake makes a move to usher them towards the couch but she stops him right away. “I mean, no...I’m sorry, I just don’t want to move.”

He’s fully aware that she’s not sure what she needs right now and despite feeling the same way, he makes a judgment call.  
   
He holds her tightly while lowering them both to the ground, pulling himself in a sitting position against the wall, pulling her between his spread legs. Her back is pressed against his chest, while his knees cage each side of her body.  
   
“I’m not going anywhere.” He murmurs into her hair, pressing his lips to her crown. “And you don’t have to always be strong for me.”  
   
She releases a deep sigh in response, leaning her head back against his shoulder. “I don’t want things to get ruined.”  
   
“Baby, you didn’t hypnotise the whole world for nearly a decade to lose all your fans and credibility over a stupid rumour.”  
   
She cracks a small smile through her tears, her hands holding onto his arms around her stomach. They sit in silence for a little bit, until Blake softly breaks it.  
   
“Is this the first time you’re dealing with a controversy in the media?”  
   
He’s always thought of her as this huge phenomenon that must be used to tabloids feasting on her name, but her reaction this afternoon questions his earlier beliefs.  
   
“Never this negative.” She replies softly, her voice hoarse. “I also never had this much to lose.”  
   
He can tell she’s still anxious, but her body is starting to relax into his chest, her breathing slowly starting to become more regular.  
   
“Baby, you’re not going to lose your career.” He emphasises again, hoping that with her slightly more relaxed state he’ll be able to get through to her this time. “You’re an amazing artist, sure—but before anything you’re an amazing person. That’s what made people fall in love with you _after_ they heard the music and it’s what will keep people sticking around. One scandal in the tabloids—who are less than reliable by the way, _anybody_ knows that—is not gonna make you lose everything you worked so hard for.”  
   
He hears her soft sigh in the other than that silent room, her hand squeezing the one he’s got laid on her stomach.

“Thank you for saying that, Blake.”  
   
“I mean it.”  
   
She nods. “It’s not all I’m scared to lose though.”  
   
He hums softly against her hair, nuzzling against her ear.  
   
“What else?” He whispers softly.

She lays her head fully back against his shoulder and looks up, seeking out his eyes. Hers are dark and serious; he can almost see the anxiety swimming in their depths.  
   
“You.” She manages to choke out. “I’m scared this is going to be too much for you and the worst part is that I wouldn’t even blame you.”  
   
He wishes it wasn’t so easy for her to doubt him, but between everything she’s been through before and the fact that they’re still new as a couple, it’s also somewhat reasonable.  
   
“I _do_ hate this…” He says softly, his voice a steady low thing. He can feel her tensing up in his arms, the crippling fears making her stoic, “...for you, Gwen. I hate this for you.”  
   
“But you’re— “  
   
“—I’m fine. I know who you are and most importantly, I know who _I_ am. I don’t care about a bunch of shitty people spreading lies; I care about you hurting over it.”  
   
“You’re not scared it’s gonna come up in an interview or messes with the business at all?” She whispers shakily, a bit of disbelief colouring her words.  
   
Blake chuckles lowly. “Darlin’, don’t you know that those kinds of rumours are what sell country music?”  
   
He feels her body shake against his again, only this time it’s from laughter. His own heart feels significantly less heavy at the sound and feel of it.  
   
“I’m sorry.”  
   
Blake cocks his head. “For what?”  
   
“Doubting us.” She admits quietly, slightly embarrassed to say that loud out.  
   
“It’s okay.” He placates softly. “I know where it comes from.”  
   
She shakes her head. “It’s not okay.”  
   
“Listen, I know these have been weird and confusing times for you. I’m just glad I get to be here so you won’t have to go through them alone.”

The words are spoken softly, his hand running through her hair, fingertips massaging her scalp. Silence falls for a moment as she lets herself enjoy his touch, and he smiles at the sight.  
   
“You know that first night we met in Nashville?” She asks suddenly.  
   
Blake nods. “How could I forget? You were the most mesmerizing human being I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

“When I came outside, I told you I was waiting for someone.”  
   
Blake smiles at the memory, the nerves had never been worse than in that moment. 

“Yeah, he was supposed to show up but didn’t.”  
   
Gwen shakes her head. “He was never meant to show up.”  
   
Blake frowns, her words not making much sense to him right now.

“He wasn’t?”  
   
She intertwines their fingers together on her stomach, a shaky exhale introducing her next set of words.  
   
“I saw you watching me.” She whispers. “I never saw someone look at me like that; like I was some sort of magical thing.”  
   
Blake laughs quietly, but falls quiet quickly for the sake of her finishing her story.  
   
“There was something different about you.” She continues, her eyes seeking out his again. “When I saw you rush outside, I knew I had to follow you.”  
   
He’s breathing heavily against her hair, his hand squeezing her delicate fingers as her words translate into his brain.  
   
“Wait a second, you followed _me_?” He keeps their gaze locked until she nods shyly. “How did you even know I was going to have the balls to come up to you?”  
   
She shrugs nonchalantly, her irises colouring with confidence.

“I just knew.”  
   
It’s already crazy enough to him that she didn’t completely shut him down when he approached her that night— the thought of her coming out because she _wanted_ him to has his mind close to exploding.

He smiles, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “You keep surprising me, you know that?”  
   
“I just wanted you to know.” She chuckles, her hand letting go of his so she can move it up to his cheek. “I always knew you were way braver than me.”  
   
“That’s not true.”  
   
“Yeah it is.” She smiles, her fingers stroking his chin. “You go for what you want, no matter how much it scares you. You lay it all out on the line, even when you feel like there’s no way in hell you’ll win.”  
   
Blake closes his eyes momentarily, the magnitude of her words hitting him hard, having heard them from no one else before.  
   
“That just sounds to me like I’m pretty stupid.” He jokes.  
   
“Hey Blake….” She calls his name like she needs him to fully focus on what she’s going to say next, no room for bullshit. “You’re the bravest man I know. You’re the bravest _person_ I know. I wouldn’t just say that.”

He swallows roughly, his throat feeling like it’s constricting painfully tight. How she turns everything into something that’s almost _too_ much to feel, he doesn’t know.

“Turn around.” He orders hoarsely, his voice overcome with emotion.  
   
She does so gracefully, her hands on his shoulders as she’s sitting on her knees in between his legs. His arms pull her forward easily, fingers tangling into her hair.

“Closer.” He orders again, his lips forming a small smirk.

Gwen melts into him completely as their lips meet, the moment filled with so much emotion he feels as if his heart might burst; this type of intimacy foreign to him.  
   
Eventually the need for airs wins out and they separate a fraction of an inch, heavy breaths mingling in the space between them. Blake tilts his head so that his forehead can rests against hers, and though he’s too close for his eyes to truly focus, he can tell that’s she’s beaming.

The love he feels for her is reflected in her stare, written in the crinkles that line the corners of her eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an important chapter for a little insight on Blake’s past/insecurities. It’s not as eventful as the other chapters maybe, but I found it important to dedicate most of this one to Blake’s state of mind. Hope you still enjoy!

_May,_ _2004_.  
   
 

They opted to swing by her place before leaving, the mood around them heavy. He knows she hasn’t been home enough and she’s missing life as it was before. Gwen’s gearing up for tour dates and the release of her first solo project, while Blake is getting ready to drop his third album. With two number one singles behind his name, there’s undeniably more buzz around his next release; his own life nowhere near the same either.  
   
Gwen agreed to spending some time with him back in Oklahoma, before she hits the road and he’s gonna get busy with promo. There’s going to be little time left to spend together and it makes him that much more grateful to have her come with him, but a part of him also feels selfish for keeping her away from home even longer.  
   
She’s dressed in jeans and a blouse that looks at least a size too large, but he’s learned rather quickly that Gwen enjoys lounging around the most—her fashion always matching her mood. It takes her about an hour to get ready as he helps her pack some things. He tries to read her as best as he can, but there’s a closed off version of Gwen desperately trying to keep him out. He knows she’s torn between wanting all this change and for everything to remain the same.  
   
“If you need to spend some more time here, instead of coming with me….”

“—I want to come with you.” She interrupts, shoving past him and grabbing her boots in the corner. She grabs the coat that’s tossed over the back of a chair before she spins back to face him.    
   
She tucks a lose strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear, sighing deeply as she finally stands still for longer than a few seconds.  
   
“Are you sure, because you don’t look too excited.”  
   
She’s quiet for a moment and just before he can start to wonder whether he’s upset her, she speaks through her hesitation.  
   
“I’m just tired, Blake.” She shifts a bit on her feet, her finger playing with the edge of her blouse. “It’s a good thing. I can go home with you and get some of my energy back before going on tour. It’s a good thing.”  
   
He hates how her explanation sounds more like she’s trying to convince herself than anything else, his own gaze lowering to the ground.  
   
“Blake, what— “

“—Look, we’ve both been running around like crazy lately and maybe this just isn’t the right time. You don’t have to come with me just because you think it’s what I want.”  
   
“You don’t want me to come with you?”  
   
Blake shakes his head, his gaze locking with hers again. “I do. I always want you with me.”  
   
“But not this time.” She sighs.  
   
Memories of his previous relationship haunt him as she stands before him so unsurely; the unfulfilling past relationship breaking completely when they lost all ability to communicate, two people consistently settling for less.  
   
“That’s not what I meant, that’s not what I _said_.” He says persistently, walking closer to her. “Schedules just aren’t always ideal, I get that. I don’t want you to bend over backwards to please me if it’s not good for you.”  
   
She looks down at the ground, his words seemingly resonating while scaring her too.  
   
“I’m sorry.” She whispers. “I’m just not used to having someone work with me on these things, instead of just getting angry.”  
   
He closes the remaining distance between them, using his hand to lift her face to meet his gaze. Her eyes are wide and glossy, a small smile forming on her lips as she pushes past her nerves.  
   
“I don’t want things to become this complicated.” She admits after a few seconds, her head leaning against the hand that holds her.  
   
“I don’t need easy, Gwen. I just need you.”  
   
Her eyes flicker up to his, the smile disappearing from her lips quickly and he realizes his mistake before she formulates any words.  
   
“Gwen, again, that’s not…I didn’t mean, _fuck_.” He drops his hand from her face, using it to rub over his mouth and chin.  
   
“Don’t worry about it, Blake. You’re just being honest. Trust me, that’s all I can really ask for these days.”  
   
“Hey.” He says finally, slipping his hand over hers. He watches her flinch a little at the contact, but she’s all too willing to tangle their fingers together, meeting him halfway. “I meant our situation isn’t always easy, but it’s still the best kind of complicated to me.”  
   
“Is there a best kind of complicated?” She whispers with a faint smile.  
   
He pauses, shrugging. “I think so. It’s a challenge that’s made worth it by every second I get to spent by your side. _You’re_ worth it. Please believe me on that.”  
   
“I do.” She whispers even quieter than before. “Do you believe me too?”  
   
He knows she’s aware of his answer before he even leans closer and uses his hand to pull her head towards his.  
   
“Yeah.” He murmurs back. “I do.”  
   
The first touch of their lips is a ghost, both there and not; much like the first night they spent exploring each other, almost feeling like it wasn’t quite allowed. It doesn’t take Gwen long to press into the kiss, opening enough to allow him to take more.  
   
Both of his hands fall to her hips, careful to hold her close without pushing her too far; not knowing exactly what she needs and wants in this moment. Apparently, she needs more than what he’s giving right now, because she presses herself more firmly against him, urging him on. He deepens the kiss and tightens his hold on her, which she answers with a moan into his mouth and her fingers combing through his hair.  
   
“Blake?” She mumbles against his lips, unwilling to move too far from the kiss.  
   
“Yeah?” He responds, chasing the vibration of her voice down the length of her neck.  
   
He realizes he’s making it more difficult for her to speak, his mouth relentless as it crawls across her skin. He doesn’t want to have a conversation right now, would prefer to let them be carried away by whatever tides have already turned.  
   
“ _Fuck_ _Blake_.” She moans as he hits a particular sensitive spot on her neck. “I still want to go home with you. I want to spend that time with you there.”  
   
She lets her gaze fall somewhere over his shoulder as she speaks, subconsciously trying to create some distance as she admits her true feelings. He holds onto her hips firmly, keeping her in place, insistent that she stops running.  
   
“There’s nothing I want more.” He smiles, looking down at her sweetly.  
   
“I’ve never been with someone who liked me as much as I liked them and I don’t always know how to deal with that because I’m a mess. I’m trying to be better though, because this means everything to me. Spending time with you means everything to me.”  
   
He dips his head to steal a kiss, knowing there’s nothing he can say to convey how much hearing her speak those words meant to him. Instead, he paints his answer on her lips as he trusts she’ll be able to read them like he spoke it.  
   
They stay wrapped up in each other for a while before he ends the kiss and nips along the edge of her jaw, his breath hot against her ear when he finally speaks again.  
   
“I hate myself for cutting this moment short, but we should get going if we want to get on that flight on time.”  
   
She chuckles against him, stealing one quick kiss herself before reluctantly pushing him away.  
   
“Let’s go home, cowboy.”  
   
*  
   
   
The car comes to an immediate stop, the streetlights and stars above them illuminating where they’re going. He can see she’s trying to piece it together, find anything familiar, but she comes up short.

He chuckles at her obvious pout.  
   
“Come on, you’ll figure it out in a sec.”  
   
He jumps out of the truck with a little to no warning, waiting for her to join him outside. He outstretches his hand and she takes it quickly, intertwining their fingers together. He allows the soft breeze of the Oklahoma wind to ease the tension out of his limbs, it being second best to finally having Gwen next to him again.  
   
He walks down the gravelly path that soon makes way for a landscape of grass and trees; leaving the mass of concrete from the city behind.  
   
She gasps softly at the sight, the serenity and cleanness from the outdoors something they both needed. He’s learned quickly that despite her being from one of the busiest cities, she’s a huge nature fan—liking the change of scenery every now and then.  
   
“This is not the surprise though.” He says softly, teasing.  
   
Her eyes widen. “It’s not? Blake, _what_ — “  
   
He tugs at her hand softly, walking her a little bit further down the trail that’s made from footsteps only, the grass battered down where they walk.  
   
He moves behind her, covering her eyes with his hands.  
   
“Blake!” She giggles, her hands flying up to hold onto his arms that are now next to her face. “Where are we going?”  
   
He shifts her a little, chuckling at her impatience. “You ready?”  
   
She nods ferociously, her excitement and nerves radiating off her. He smiles before slowly lowering his hands, moving them to her hips instead.  
   
He gives her some time to look around, the staggering of her breath telling him she probably needs it. The expanse of grass lays out like an ocean before them, large trees making the park feel more like a forest, minus the isolated location. A few feet from where they’re standing lays a large blanket, two glasses and a bottle of wine on top. The only streetlight illuminates them just enough; the shadows of the trees blending into the darkness, their silhouettes pretty against the dark sky.  
   
“Blake, oh my god.” She gaps, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. “How did you… _when_ did you do this?”  
   
He walks from behind her until he’s next to her, his hand grabbing hers again.

“I might’ve made some calls to my manager, so I definitely owe him some crazy shit.”  
   
She laughs at that, turning to look at him.  
   
“Is that why you were on the phone the whole time?”  
   
He nods. “I had to make sure we’d get here soon after he dropped everything off. Not wanting to come here and find it all gone.”  
   
She crashes into his large frame, his arms coming around her instinctively. “Blake, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”  
   
His hand cups her cheek, pulling back slightly. “You deserve only the best, baby.”  
   
She smiles softly, tears starting to form in her eyes. He doesn’t make a move to pull out of her grip, knowing she’s emotional and probably needs a moment to collect herself; doing that best when she’s held by him.  
   
“I love you. You know that, right?”  
   
The first time she’d said it was a few weeks ago and it still feels like the strangest thing to hear; words that bring a whole course of different sensations through his body, feeling like the warmest thing he’s ever known.  
   
“I love you too.”  
   
She seems finally ready to move towards where the blanket is set up, lowering herself down onto it slowly. He follows her lead, handing her one of the glasses before reaching for the bottle of red. The wind seems to have died down, leaving them in silence aside from the occasional traffic that could be heard if you focused hard enough. He shifts a bit as he pours them the wine, his boot hitting a bunch of dried twigs underneath the blanket.  
   
He hands her the glass, watching the side of her face as her eyes sparkle with amazement over the location. Her shoulder leans into his side, her free hand searching for his.  
   
“You don’t even know how badly I needed this.” She murmurs lowly, exhaling loudly.  
   
He shrugs. “I think I’ve had an idea.”  
   
She looks at him sweetly before nipping at her glass. Her hand moves up to his cheek, as she diverts her attention back to the view in front of her.  
   
“Maybe.” She concedes. “Things have just been so crazy, I’ve barely had time to unwind; barely had time to be with you.”  
   
“I know you’re busy. Things will slow down a bit once you turn the project in.”  
   
She shudders a bit, her hand squeezing his more tightly. “Am I crazy for doing this?”  
   
“Crazy for doing what, baby?” He asks sweetly.  
   
She takes some time to formulate her words, the stress becoming overly prominent on her features now.  
   
“The solo album.” She whispers softly. “Are the guys right? Is this something that’s going to tarnish my image in the band?”  
   
It’s still crazy to him how she can get so insecure about her abilities, for he knows for certain that she’s capable of succeeding in whatever she sets out to do.  
   
“Baby, you’ve been talking about this for so long. You said it yourself, you need to be able to be _all_ of yourself instead of just fifty percent. There’s nothing wrong with that.”  
   
“But what if it _does_ affect the band?” She retorts quickly. “My main focus should be with them; I shouldn’t do anything that could affect them negatively too.”  
   
“And it has been, for so many years.” Blake replies quickly, squeezing her hand back in support. “You’ve dedicated your whole life to the band, Gwen. It’s okay to take a few moments for yourself, it won’t hurt them.”  
   
“We can’t be sure of that.” She whispers.  
   
“Yeah we can.” He smiles, tugging her against his side a bit more as his arm now comes to rest around her back. “We can, because you’re incapable of making anything that’s not authentic to who you are—if anything, this solo album will make people understand you even better which is never a bad thing when someone’s as great as you.”  
   
She looks at him with so much love in her eyes then, he needs to swallow roughly.  
   
“How do you always know just what to say to make me feel better?”  
   
He chuckles, lowering his cheek against the top of her head as he continues to hold her.

“I just tell it how I see it.”  
   
“I love how you see things.” She says absentmindedly.  
   
He holds onto her a bit tighter in that moment, not prepared for how the words make him feel—not used to hearing endearments like that in a relationship. His sudden change of demeanour must’ve been obvious to her, because she addresses it immediately.  
   
“Where did you just go, baby?”  
   
He smiles at her attentiveness, motioning for her to lay down with him. He lays on his side, facing her with his elbow pressing into the blanket, his hand underneath his chin. She does the same.  
   
“Does any of this ever feel like it just can’t be real?”  
   
His free hand reaches out to her, gently placing a stray hair behind her ears.  
   
“Oh you mean like finding this dreamy cowboy who treats me better than anyone else I’ve ever met in my life?” She raises her eyebrow as a grin covers her face. “Yeah, I feel like that sometimes.”  
   
He chuckles, his hand retreating and rubbing the back of his neck; still a bit awkward when it comes to accepting her compliments.  
   
“I know this will probably sound crazy to you, but I keep thinking about how in the world I managed to get a girl like you to even look at me twice.”  
   
She reaches out for him this time, grabbing his free hand and rubbing her thumb along his wrist.  
   
“I don’t understand why you keep saying that.”  
   
“My ex….” He diverts his gaze away from her, suddenly feeling too vulnerable. “When we broke up, she told me I’d never be able to keep anyone interested for too long—that I just wasn’t lovable enough.”  
   
Her thumb stills on his skin, her eyes watering. He can see her heart breaking for him and it has him close to retracting everything; not wanting to be a bother.  
   
“Blake, why did you never tell me this before?”  
   
He shrugs it off, not wanting to make a bigger deal out of it than he has to. “I just felt like it didn’t matter anymore; I met you, things turned around for me—I didn’t want to stay stuck in the past.”  
   
She shakes her head softly. “Things like that don’t just disappear; these memories don’t go away just because you take a few steps forward.”  
   
“We both made mistakes in that relationship, you know. I probably can’t even blame her for most of the things she said.”  
   
“You’ve only ever told me you guys were too young and that’s why you broke up…” She muses softly, demanding eye contact. “What _really_ happened?”  
   
“That _is_ what happened, I didn’t lie about that.” He counters quickly, grateful for her hand still holding on to him. “It was just a bit more complicated than that.”  
   
“It always is.” She smiles sadly.  
   
He nods before spilling his heart out to her in a way he never has before.

“I met her in high school and we kinda instantaneously got together; she was the only safety I’d ever known for most of my young adult life. When time went on, we drifted apart, she wanted more space while I wanted more closeness. She started saying whatever insult she could come up with, hoping it would stop me from wanting more from her.”  
   
Saying the words out loud makes him realize just how crazy it sounds, Gwen’s sad expression saying everything he can’t admit to himself just yet.  
   
“By the end of that relationship I was just so insecure, I couldn’t even recognize myself anymore.” He recalls the memory sadly, feeling the emotion settle in his throat. “I think in a way we were both too insecure to leave.”  
   
“But Blake she made it so obvious she didn’t _want_ it to work.”  
   
Despite her harsh words, there’s nothing but kindness in her tone, making the words not unbearable to hear. He smiles at her softly, sighing deeply.  
   
“After I had proposed, I kinda convinced myself that this had to be right. We would last and we’d figure everything out some day.”  
   
She scoots closer to him, her arm moving over his waist as she nestles herself against him like an extra blanket; granting him the closeness his ex never would.  
   
“But that didn’t happen.” She finishes softly.  
   
“Luckily, no.” He smiles down at her, grinning when understanding colours her features. “But you’re right, it didn’t. I came home the night after launching my first single—an event she missed—and she’d left a note saying she was spending the next few days in Texas with a _friend_.”  
   
Gwen gasps softly. “You think she…?”  
   
“I don’t know.” Blake replies quickly, not wanting her to finish that sentence. “I honestly don’t know, but it was then that I knew I couldn’t do it anymore. I broke off the engagement the next day.”

“That must’ve broke you...” She muses softly, biting her lip. “God Blake, I’m so sorry.”

The tone of her voice reminds him so much of everything that’s gentle, he can’t help but choke up at the sound of it. 

“Sometimes bad things must happen to make room for the good ones.”

Her hand slides upwards, gripping the back of his neck gently. The look in her eyes tells him exactly what she wants and he’s helpless to comply. Her lips are soft against his, neither one deepening the kiss, but both savouring the moment. She pecks his lips again before she lets him pull away, her hand playing with the hairs at his nape tenderly.  
   
“What was that for?” He asks hoarsely, licking his lips.  
   
“For being so amazing. For trusting me enough and being honest with me.” She speaks the words softly, but he hears them loud and clear. “You didn’t deserve any of that, Blake—you deserve everything good this world has to offer.”  
   
He squeezes her tighter, keeping her against him with a firm hand on her back.  
   
“Guess we have something in common then.”  
   
She smiles. “I think we have more than just one thing in common, cowboy.”  
   
He leans down and pecks her lips once again, just because.  
   
“I love you so much.”  
   
He’s never known a connection like the one he has with her; it’s been intense and impenetrable from the start—her heart so in sync with his, he sometimes feels like they’re breathing the same air.

If she lets him, he thinks he can learn from her forever; freedom from her would be an infinite prison.  
   
“I love you too, Blake.” She lets her nail graze his chin lightly, making sure not to break the physical contact. “So damn much.”  
   
They sit there for almost another hour, drinking the expensive bottle of wine Brandon provided them with; another reason why he’s grateful for his manager to also be one of his best friends. It’s not until Gwen keeps shivering and the wind picks up again that he utters the idea of going back to the car. It takes them several minutes to get themselves to untangle from each other, but they’re back into the safety and warmth of his car twenty minutes later.  
   
The drive home is quiet but it’s a silence he can comfortably bask in. One of his hands ventures down to her knee, squeezing lightly before letting it go limp on her leg.  
   
She moves her hand to cover his in return and it’s much like what she’s been doing all night; providing him with a sense of safety that up until now, has always been foreign to him.


	9. Chapter 9

_June, 2004_

 

They’re not scheduled to perform for at least another twenty minutes, but the crowd inside is already jam packed, the people restless to see them come out. Gwen hooked him up with front row tickets, as he wanted to see their show from a crowd’s perspective, apposed to standing on the side if he stayed backstage. He’s sure he won’t regret that decision as soon as they grace the stage, but the number of people crowding his space from behind and ‘acquaintances’ who all seem to have some sort of connection to the band—who share the space in the front with him—have him starting to become slightly agitated.

Multiple sound engineers come on stage to do the usual check-up, causing a huge wave of cheers to erupt from the crowd, which quickly dies down again at the sight of the four random men checking wires and sound systems. His eyes are fixated on the large drum set with No Doubt’s initials on it; everything just looking grand. It’s moments like these—catching her at one of her shows—that he realizes the magnitude of what she does, of what she _is_. It’s not like he could ever forget, but getting it emphasized like this makes him beam like a light pole; he couldn’t be more proud of her and her achievements.

Finally, after what feels like hours, the lights go down for real. He anticipated the loud cheers, smiling as the sound erupts once again, this time not dying down. He watches as the guys arrive first, taking their rehearsed stance on stage. It’s still weird sometimes to know that not just Gwen, but her whole band are now people that he knows.

He needs no proof of the fact that Gwen’s something else entirely, her presence anywhere just demands a different type of reaction, but he’s not sure he’s ever heard a crowd reaction as loud as when she makes her introduction on stage. Her red checkered pants are hanging snugly on her hips, a black tank top cut to just below her breasts, showing her toned abs and stomach. He’s seen her so many times now, all dressed up and dressed down, but he’s still caught off guard by the raging feelings she extracts from him so freely up on that stage before him. The minute her voice sings the first few lines of “Just A Girl”, it seems like she’s solidified herself as a class of her own, a league unmatched that leaves her only competition to be herself. The way she moves and carries herself across the stage is with a presence that is both thrilling and intimidating, her facial expressions revealing she knows exactly what she’s doing; entrancing thousands of people, having them eat out of the palm of her hands before the first song is over.

He’s not sure when it happens, being too busy with following her every movement, that he doesn’t recognize when she stands still for a second to look at him. When he finally regains some of his senses and identifies her stare as something for him, she’s close to breaking it. He gets her unwavering attention for about 0.2 seconds before she moves on, but he’s just in time to catch the knowing smirk. He shifts a bit uncomfortably, his throat not the only thing that’s tightening.

Her happiness when she’s up there is undeniable, sparking a fire in his chest that could only be described as euphoria. He wants to make her as happy as she is when she’s making music—he wants to be part of her being too, as selfish as that might be. He’s entranced by the way she’s able to connect to every emotion known to mankind, despite having told him she lived quite a sheltered life; the heartbreaks of her two previous relationships the darkest days she’s known. He barely survived his heartache, so he’ll never be the one to downplay the horrors of a heart that’s been beaten and bruised, tossed around like it’s nothing, yet there’s an innocence about her that she completely tears to shreds when she performs. Maybe it’s his own upbringing that was much different, much less guarded than hers, that makes him admire _this_ Gwen so much more. Maybe his connection to her runs as deep as it does because she’s able to channel the person on stage, Blake wishes he could be more of in his everyday life.

Music, to her, is like turning back the clock, travelling and returning to her darkest moments. She embraces the music and finds herself in a different world; her movements flow with a dazzling grace, yet intimidating wildness. It’s like watching her soul become one with these songs, unleashing her emotions into her performance.

She needs it as badly as she needs to breath.

It’s not until she announces the last song of their set before Blink 182 will come out, that she locks eyes with him again. He nods his head once to affirm that he’s noticing her, a huge smile sprayed across his lips. He recognizes the intro to the song as the start of “Sunday Morning”, grateful for the lesson of their discography Gwen had him take; the education much appreciated, his heart especially fond of the teacher.

He knows the lyrics to the song by heart now, which makes him realize immediately that she’s changing it up quite a bit, the explicitness of the song ramped up by her fiery improvisations. The crowd eats it up, the energy levels turned up another notch as she gives everything she has left. His eyes follow her to every corner of the stage, his breath hitching when she stops right in front of him, her eyes again seeking out his.

He knows what she’s doing and he chuckles to himself when her hips start moving from side to side, her tongue caught between her teeth as she does whatever she can to drive him nuts. He hears the reaction of the crowd as she seemingly teases them all, but he feels a weird sensation course through him at the knowledge he can indeed internalize this as his own. By the time the instruments fade out and the stage clears out by them running off, he’s way too wired to care about how it looks—he needs to find Gwen, now.

It’s not surprising to see them cornered by a bunch of people; managers, stage handlers, family and friends—all are lined up to tell them about how amazing they were, how breath taking Gwen was. He waits for a few of them to clear out, when Gwen locks their gaze and excuses herself from the small group left. Her smile reaches all the way to her ears, walking right into his arms.

His own smile is threatening to tear his cheeks, his arms coming around her to press her more firmly into him, his mouth at her ear.

“You were fucking amazing, Gwen.” He whispers loudly enough for her to hear in the crowded backstage area. “That was insane, I couldn’t _believe_ how good that was.”

He feels her giggle against him, her stage persona cracking slightly but not yet all the way gone.

“Thank you.” She looks up at him with a smirk, before her teeth dig into her bottom lip. “I saw you watching me, Blake—I think I like having you there. It fuels me.”

Blake chuckles. “It does, huh?”

“ _Yeah_.” She replies seductively, hiding her face in his neck. “It’s nice to know you’re just as obsessed with me as I am with you.”

He grunts, his hand stilling on her lower back.

“If you want, we can go back to your trailer right now and I’ll show you exactly how obsessed I am.”

She laughs, looking back up at him as she waves a finger in front of his face. “As appealing as that sounds, that will have to wait for a little bit.”

“Why’s that?” Blake asks partially playful, partially frustrated.

“We’re going out partying tonight and you’re coming with us.”

Blake sighs loudly, his face constricting in a less than excited manner. “Gwen, I don’t know….”

“Come on…” She urges playfully, pressing her chest against him, seemingly not caring about the lack of privacy here. “I promise we won’t stay long.”

His arms around her tighten, letting out a soft grunt against her ear. He’s not super keen of the idea of partying with a bunch of rock stars; his favorite way of partying done with a beer in his hand, a bunch of his buddies in the middle of nowhere—a rowdy bar the extent of it.

She bats her eyelashes quickly, smiling up at him devilishly. “Pretty please?”

He sighs in defeat, squeezing her sides as he makes her squeal.

“You owe me one.”

She grins. “Yes I do.”

He chuckles at her excitement, letting her drag him across the room to her friends. He’s relieved to find out it’s becoming easier and easier to find footing in her life; the acclimation the lifestyle and socializing with her circle of people is almost becoming second nature to him. His mom should see him now—the shy and slightly awkward version of him having grown into a version of himself he didn’t know he could ever be. He knows a lot of that growth he did himself, before meeting her, but a large portion of it can be credited back to Gwen.

The mood backstage gets more energetic and less composed with the minute, all getting restless to get out of here and continue the night at a club Blake’s sure he’s never heard of. He gets passed multiple drinks while they wait on the show to finish, making it considerably easier to come to terms with his night being nowhere near over yet.

Gwen’s a force of nature off and on stage, her presence demanded everywhere, her attention what everyone seems to want. He doesn’t mind sharing her with all these people, not when she’s so good at wowing everyone she meets. There’s a strange feeling of pride at knowing he’s the one she goes home with when all is said and done. She carries herself with so much poise, yet there’s something so wild and untamed about her. He’s deep into his admiration for her when she motions for him to follow her, her hand intertwining with his immediately. There are multiple cars waiting at the back entrance to take them to where they need to go.

The atmosphere of where they end up going is different from what he’s used to, definitely, but he can’t help but thinking it’s different from who _she_ is too. He can’t imagine being the only female in an all men band, having to roll with the punches more often than not, but this place does nothing to change his mind about going out. By the way she presses herself against him and slides her fingers in the back of his hair, he thinks she’s aware.

“A few hours’ _tops_ , I promise.” She says into his ear, following her words up with a quick kiss.

The lights in this place confuse him, the blue aesthetic feels like it’s being taken too far; the lights, the leather lounges, the bar, they’re all covered by that damn blue fluorescent light. He motions to her that he’ll be at the bar and she nods—he’s not surprised to see her feet drag her towards the dance floor first. He keeps his eyes on her despite going the opposite way, smiling to himself softly. The way she moves herself through the crowd of people, bending her spine and gyrating her hips to the music blaring through the speakers, has him mesmerized all over again. He could watch her all day, pointing out all the things that make him so entranced without ever running out of inspiration.

He’s not quite sure how long she’s up there, but her finger makes a _come hither_ motion as she catches him staring, his legs carrying him over to where she’s still moving in that damn way that has him close to falling to his knees. He’s grateful when she meets him halfway, stepping away from some of the crowd that had surrounded her. Her delicate hand grabs onto his wrist, leading him away from the people who gathered there to dance, not stopping until she has led them to the back of the club—the lounge area already reserved by most of her band and some of the entourage who seems to follow them wherever they go.

“This is quite the place, huh?” Blake asks her playfully, some of his discomfort managing to find its way into his voice though.

It’s Tom who picks up on it first, making a wild gesture his way.

“Get the man another drink, he needs it!”

Blake tries to hold it off, knowing that if he allows himself to drink his discomfort away, he’ll have to be carried out of this place. Tom won’t take no for answer though, the drink already being pressed in his hands. He makes the mistake of sniffing at it first, the manufactured smell of alcohol and something way too sweet making him pull it away from his nostrils immediately.

“Jesus!” He huffs, eliciting a laugh from both Tom and Gwen, her body shaking against his.

“That bad?” She smiles, leaning into him to smell whatever is in his cup. He offers it up to her, smirking as she takes it from him. The small sip has her scrunching her face, shaking her head in earnest. “Oh no, that’s not good.”

He chuckles. “The things I do for you.”

He figures he must be going crazy, but the music seems to be even louder here in the back; it being a weird mix between rock and pop he’s never heard before—it doesn’t sound right, doesn’t _feel_ right, but the band doesn’t seem to notice as they’re too far gone already. Gwen’s the only one of the bunch who hasn’t let the alcohol get to her brain yet, his eyes moving down to the full cup in her hands.

He nudges her softly. “You good?”

She follows his gaze down to her hands, nodding sweetly. “Yeah, I just don’t like to drink too much while on tour. Gotta think about the weirdos who are coming out to see us tomorrow night, you know?”

He smiles at her, placing a quick kiss on her cheek. “I hear ya.”

Here in the blue darkness, she still brings him the most ridiculous joy whilst being pressed against him on the couch. She lets herself lean back against the leather behind her, stretching out almost completely and he chuckles at the sight. Despite being the most sober one, she’s not shying away from some extra antics.

The small table in front of them is being pushed backwards at some point, creating more space in the private area they’ve made their own, drinks being spilled as it didn’t occur to them to set them down before moving wildly along with the music. Inhibited laughter spills from Gwen’s mouth at the sight and he can’t help but join her; her happiness infectious.

“Come on, Gwen!” Tony’s voice yells above the music, motioning with his hand for her to join them, taking another sip of his drink. “Don’t be boring, dance with us.”

Her eyes come up to Blake’s, smiling a bit nervously. He understands she’s feeling slightly awkward about taking him up on his invitation, not nearly drunk enough to dance with her ex in front of her current boyfriend, apparently.

“Show me what you got.” Blake hears himself say, smirking at the shocked expression on her face.

“Oh cowboy, you’re so on.”

She’s up off the couch and out of his arms in less than a second. He takes a big gulp of the disgusting drink in his hand, shaking his head at the liquor coating his taste-buds. Maybe it’s the alcohol getting to his own brain now, because he can’t understand why he just urged her to leave his side. His eyes are glued on her body like they’ve been all night, her movements the only good thing about the music that’s being played.

He takes a deep breath, smoothing some of his hair back as he continuous watching her. The familiar bitterness that he only ever feels when being around Tony, finds its way back into his chest as the man leans into Gwen’s personal space to whisper something. She seems dismissive enough of the gesture, not paying whatever he said much mind. Blake wills his own jealousy to take a backseat, knowing it’s not her fault that Tony just manages to press all the wrong buttons with him.

“Hey Blake, you wanna get us another drink?”

Like things couldn’t get worse, the guy looks hammered and of course decides to speak to him now, out of all options. Blake swallows down the wave of resentment, leaning back as his arm outstretches on the head of the couch.

“You know I’m not a waiter, right?”

Tony shrugs arrogantly, the drunken slur making him twice as hard to understand.

“You’re sure as hell not partying either.” Tony lifts his hand that’s holding his cup, obnoxiously making a show of the whole thing. “The bar might be the most familiar thing for you in here.”

“ _Actually_ ….” Blake clears his throat loudly, his hand lifting from the couch as he holds it out towards Gwen, smiling gratefully when she takes it. “The most familiar thing in here is this pretty girl, right here.”

The way Gwen bites down on her lip and smirks tells him she’s satisfied with his little comeback, the sexy motion making it hard for him to eventually let go of her hand.

He hears Tony making puking sounds from where he’s standing unsteadily on his feet, not even the music able to drown out the loudness of this guy. It’s been obvious to him from the start that her ex-boyfriend doesn’t find it easy to compose himself whenever Gwen starts showing interest in someone else, finding it within himself to somewhat be compassionate; he can’t imagine losing Gwen either. 

“No refills then.” Tony concedes in a frustrated manner, diverting his attention away from him for the time being. Gwen mouths an ‘ _I’m_ _sorry_ ’ his way, which he dismisses quickly by pretending to send her a kiss.

It could be due to the alcohol, but he finds himself more comfortable suddenly, being whisked away from their previous spot as they’re all hurdled up back into the main area. The music is still too loud to really get to enjoy each other’s company, but he finds himself hysterically laughing at some point when Adrian pulls out these less than elegant dance moves. The drummer tries to get him to duplicate some of them, but there’s no way his hips and back will allow it. Gwen seems eager to prove him wrong though, her hands sliding around his waist as she starts pushing against them.

“Don’t tell me you don’t got any moves of your own, cowboy.” She giggles, her head pushing into his chest.

It’s clear she’s been sipping on too many cocktails to remain serious, his hand coming to the back of her neck as she continues laughing into his chest. His attention shifts to the way she’s moving against him, the music unable to let her go; her sensuality bursting through into the most vibrant picture the universe has ever created.

“How about these?” He laughs against her ear, his hips making a weird rotation while awkwardly bopping his head back and forth, basking in the laughter that spills from her beautiful lips.

“ _Oh my god!_ ” She squeals, letting go of his hips as she stares in enjoyment. Her happiness and slight embarrassment feels like it settles right into his bloodstream—enough to make him tingle as he keeps moving, keeps extracting a sound from her. “You’re so ridiculous.”

He laughs at her own reactions, motioning for her to come forward again. She does so immediately, letting his arms come around her lower back.

“I had to show you _something_.”

She giggles again. “You showed me big time.”

He smiles at her, wondering if she knows what she does to him. Between her body having moved all night like her limbs were half liquid—in perfect rhythm—and the endearing qualities she’s unleashing on him now, he’s beyond wired to say the least.

He shouldn’t be surprised by the interruption of their moment, but he ends up sighing in disappointment anyways. She’s pulled away from him almost as quickly as he’d managed to get her back in his arms, Tony’s voice making its way over the music again making him roll his eyes.

“Did they turn the music up?” He damn near yells in Gwen’s ear, her mouth parting in a shocked but amused smile

“No, Tony…” She shakes her head, smiling. “You’re just drunk off your ass.”

He’s leaning on her way too much for Blake’s liking, but he keeps the little bit of distance; not enough to be able to reach out for her, but just close enough to still hear their conversation.

“That reminds me, we should get another drink.”

Gwen lets her body become heavy, dragging her feet. “No, I think we’re good. You should take it easy a little bit.”

Blake’s suddenly reminded of how she’s literally the only woman in an all-round male dominated atmosphere; it’s that way every second of her life. She stands her ground with a taught perseverance and determination.

“God Gwen, you’re so fucking hot right now.” Tony’s arm reaches around her neck, leaning fully against her now. Blake can tell that with his previous comment and sudden closeness, Gwen’s feeling awkward, avoiding his gaze at all costs as she tries to keep him upright. “You know if you were single right now, I’d totally do you.”

“ _Tony!_ ” She exclaims with wide eyes, trying to create some distance.

That’s it.

As much as Blake tried to keep himself out of it, he can’t stand by any longer, his own anger winning out against everything else. He doesn’t need to set more than two steps forward to be right in front of them, his hand pushing against Tony’s shoulder in warning.

“Get the hell off her.”

“Blake, it’s okay, I got it.”

Blake’s patience is quickly running out, Tony’s arm not moving an inch despite Gwen’s efforts to pull herself away from him.

“You hear that _cowboy_? She doesn’t need your help.” He slurs, fuelling the fire.

He watches as Gwen shoots her ex-boyfriend a desperate look, pleading with him to get his shit together. When his arm still doesn’t move, Blake takes matters into his own hands. Both his hands grab at the collar of his shirt, pushing hard enough to get the guy to stumble back a bit, the alcohol in his system making him barely catch himself from hitting the ground.

“What the fuck!” Tony yells, remarkably steady as he walks up to Blake, crowding his space.

“Tony, you’re drunk. You need to calm down.” Gwen’s back at their side immediately, her hand pushing at his arm, trying to get him to take a step back.

“Your boyfriend just fucking hit me.”

Gwen shakes her head, holding her hand up towards Blake, not wanting this to escalate any further.

“He didn’t hit you, he _pushed_ you. Besides, you deserved it.”

He feels relief rush through him as he hears her defending him, but it’s quickly replaced by anger again when the guy leans into her once more, this time keeping his hands to himself.

“He doesn’t belong here.” Tony tries again. “Honestly Gwen, what the hell do you see in him anyways? He can’t be _that_ good in the sack.”

He wants to lunge forward again, anything to get the fucking guy to stop talking, but it’s Gwen hardening demeanour that stops him. Her back straightens with a confidence and no-bullshit attitude while she addresses him.

“Okay, we’re leaving.” She states matter of factly, shooting the guy a pissed off look. “And for your information, he’s the best I’ve ever had.”

She turns her back to him the next moment, motioning with her hand towards the exit. Blake remains standing though, seeing Tony’s attempt coming from a mile away.

“ _Hey!_ ” Blake snaps as he watches his arm go dangerously close to Gwen again, trying to stop her from leaving. “Don’t touch her.”

Tony’s eyes shoot up to Blake, challenging him before he even utters a word. “Or what? What will you do about it?”

Ignoring Gwen’s strict gaze, he takes another step forward, looming over him by quite a few inches. The thought to just slam the bassist back into the nearest wall and get a few good punches in definitely appears to him, but he wills it back for Gwen’s sake.

“I advise you not to try and find out.” Blake growls angrily.

He feels the anger everywhere, from the quiet jabs he’s been throwing his way ever since he became a part of Gwen’s life, to the disrespectful things coming out of his mouth to Gwen just now. He doesn’t recall a time where he’s been this charged up and ready to fight, but he recognizes it’s a good thing when Tony decides to step down and throw his hands up—for Blake wouldn’t have been able to contain himself if Tony continued his antics.

From the little space Tony created by taking a few steps backwards, Gwen manoeuvres herself between the two guys, turning to him as she moves a hand up his chest.

“I want to get out of here.” She speaks to him softly, but loud enough for him to hear. He’s still unable to snap himself out of the sudden adrenaline rush, not making any attempt to move until he hears her voice speak to him again, this time more vulnerable. “Can you get me out of here?”

He looks down at her, nodding. “Let’s go.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the moment her hand is back in his. She presses herself against his side, holding onto him while they make their way through the crowded space. The moment his body collides with the outside world again, leaving the musky, booze-filled room behind, a rush of relief washes over him. He sucks in the air as if nothing has ever been so sweet, the small hand still intertwined with his squeezing lightly.

 

*

She wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, and he couldn’t blame her. Back in her trailer, he finds himself anxiously pacing, trying to cope with the raging energy still in his body.

Gwen’s changed back into loose sweats, a bright pink tank top covering her chest. As grateful as he is to be out of that damn club, he can’t enjoy the change of scenery; the stillness of Gwen’s frame on the large couch foreign to him right now.

“Blake….” She calls out softly, after watching him pace for several minutes. “Come here.”

“Is he always this way with you?” He asks instead, not making any move to sit down.

She shakes her head quickly, sighing.

“No, he was just drunk—not that it’s an excuse.”

He feels bad about rehatching it, because she looks genuinely upset about what happened tonight, but he’s feeling too much to keep it all bottled up.

“He can’t talk to you like that.”

Gwen nods. “I know. _He_ knows.”

“Does he?” Blake retorts angrily, leaning against the small table in the middle of her trailer. “He’s been out of line with you ever since I’ve known him.”

“Which isn’t that long.” She reminds him, her eyes closing. “I know him, Blake. This is not who he is.”

Blake shakes his head, exasperated. “What if it _is_ , Gwen? What if you’re trying to create this version of him that just does not exist?”

She’s up off the couch in an instant, walking over to where he’s perched up against the wooden table. Her hand comes up to his chest, moving onto her tiptoes to get his undivided attention.

“I know you’re angry….” She begins, causing an immediate reaction from him.

“I’m not just angry—I’m worried.”

“Worried?” She repeats, pressing her chin into his chest now as her hand is still there too; he recognizes it’s her way of calming him down.

“You’re in a band with all guys.” Blake starts softly, but determined. “You’re on tour with all guys. I know you’re used to that by now, but he’s supposed to be your friend. He’s supposed to look out for you, not try and make you uncomfortable.”

She bites her lip hard at his words, her features softening as her hand moves up to the nape of his neck.

“You don’t have to worry about me, baby. I know what I’m doing.” She smiles sweetly, her thumb grazing the short hairs at the back of his head. “It’s why I don’t always go out with them whilst on tour; it’s not always the most fun as the only girl, but that’s okay.”

“The way he talked to you tonight wasn’t okay.” He follows up immediately, shaking his head. “Who the hell does he think he is? If he talks— _or touches_ —you like that again while I’m there to see it…”

“Shhhh...” She interrupts the beginning of his threat, placing a deep kiss on his lips before hovering against them. “You know you’re super cute and ridiculously hot when you get protective, don’t you?”

“Gwen….”

“I’m safe, we’re fine and we’re here now.”

A moment passes where neither of them speak; their chemistry is electric, sending sparks shooting through his veins as he watches her eyes darken. The trailer is dimly lit; the soft light flickering across her face shadowy and almost haunting—enough to take his breath away entirely.

“Best you ever had, huh?” Blake utters lowly, breaking the silence.

Her face riddles with confusion before a knowing grin pushes its way onto her lips, her hand trailing back down his body until it settles on his lower stomach.

“Remember when I told you I owed you one?” She whispers, letting her voice trail off seductively.

Her touches are deliberate, reducing his mind to a puddle of mush, entirely too distracted by the spell she’s weaving around him. Not trusting his voice, he just nods as he remembers her earlier words spoken to him before they went out.

“I think I’d like to start repaying you right now…”

She’s tugging at his wrist in the next moment, ushering him over the couch before using her hand to easily push him down. He lets his knees bend as he lets himself fall back into the cushions, watching her every move. She lowers on her knees in front of him, the air rushing straight out of his lungs at the sight.

He watches as Gwen turns her attention to his jeans, fingers sliding towards the leather of his belt before unbuckling it.

“ _Jesus._ ” He grunts as her hands sneaks passed the waistband of his boxers, holding him in her hands.

As soon as her mouth touches him, licking a long stripe along his length, he knows he’s a goner. His eyes close automatically, unable to watch the sight of her on her knees without exploding immediately. He grunts again when she takes him in her mouth completely; it’s not fair how close he is already, the whole night being one big tease-fest.

“Is this what you want, baby?” She asks innocently, letting him slip out of her mouth.

He looks down to find her already watching him, her lips slick and swollen. His hand moves to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her blonde hair as he carefully tugs her forward again, needing to feel her hot mouth surrounding him.

She takes the hint with a small smile, letting him push past her lips again. The moan that escapes him is one of enjoyment and frustration, the pace she’s setting for herself a slow and teasing one. He’s torn between wanting to thrust up a little, speed things up, and enjoying being at her mercy in this moment. His free hand digs into the couch cushion hard, his knuckles turning white from the effort.

His breathing is loud to his own ears, the wet sound of Gwen picking up speed has his eyes rolling to the back of his head. He holds onto her head without pushing or pulling, it’s merely there to ground himself. He can feel Gwen smile around him, knowing she’s got him right where she wants him.

“Gwen, please.” His voice breaks due to the strain, it almost being impossible to voice his desires when she’s handling him like this. “Don’t stop.”

She pulls away momentarily, only to take the tip back into her mouth. A string of curses are pulled from his throat when she sucks there in earnest, the vibration of her chuckle against him damn near torturous.

“Fuck baby, I’m so close.”

The tease Gwen is right here on her knees is almost too much; the agonizingly slow tempo, the slick slide of her mouth are all making his toes curl, her lips tight around his length. He feels the muscles in his stomach clenching tightly, indicating his orgasm is near. He melts back into the couch, his hand still in her hair as he lets her take him over the edge; the bobbing of her head not stopping until he’s completely and utterly spent.

He finally opens his eyes again, looking down at her. He brings his other hand to cup her chin, drawing her face up to meet his gaze. He can still feel his body trembling slightly, never remembering a time where he felt _this_ unguarded.

“You’re too good at that.” Blake murmurs with a chuckle, smiling when she leans into the touch of his hand before pulling herself up onto her feet.

She hovers above him, both her hands cupping his cheek when she moves down and kisses him. She wraps her arms around his neck, letting him make the kiss what he wants it to be; deep and powerful, long and languid. He’s the first to pull back, letting his forehead rest against hers.

Her hot, heavy breathes land like fire on his lips, his closed eyes twitching as he tries to calm himself.

“Have I told you…” He pants, “That kissing you makes me feel like I’m flying and falling at the same time?”

She shakes her head, feeling it rub against his, smirking.

“Maybe you should stop kissing me then…”

“Fuck no.” He breathes, one of his hands pressing deeper into her back, keeping her standing right in front of him. “It’s the most incredible feeling in the world.” He punctuates his words with another hard kiss, his lips crashing over hers, his tongue sweeping over her lips until he’s let in. _“You_ are the most incredible feeling in the world.”

She chuckles, disconnecting from his lips and taking a few steps back, smiling at his obvious pout. Her finger motions for him to follow her to her bed in the back.

“Come _show_ me how incredible.”

He grins almost evilly as he pulls himself up and follows her down. He mumbles a quick prayer to himself, willing his self-control to just last a little while longer.


	10. Chapter 10

_December, 2004_  
   
   
   
“Please don’t do this right now.” She says annoyed, shooting him a brief glance before continuing to dig through the contents of her purse.

Something about the air around them shifts violently; where he usually finds patience and understanding, they’re now met with the newfound hostility that wraps around them like a familiar blanket. He hates how easy it is for him to feel this way lately, feeling like he must fight for her attention.  
   
Blake sighs heavily, his arms folding over his chest. 

“When _do_ you suggest we do this?”  
   
“Why do we need to do anything?” She snaps, her hands pausing inside her purse. “We knew this break wasn’t gonna be for long and I have to get back to LA. Please don’t make this a thing.”  
   
“Gwen, you promised you wouldn’t miss this.” He counters, his voice sounding a bit defeated.  
   
“And you know how these things go sometimes.”  
   
He huffs in annoyance, biting his lip to refrain himself from all the low blows on the tip of his tongue. An escalation is bound to happen, he just doesn’t think he’s ready to deliver the first blow yet.  
   
“I guess I do.”

“Exactly.”

She finally finds what she’s been looking for, her slim fingers flipping through the small agenda as she pauses on the phone number she was meaning to find. “I gotta make a quick call; make sure they know I’m heading over there.”  
   
He knew this break was going to be temporary indeed; Gwen’s first solo album finally being released to the world came with a whirlwind of reactions and promo. As proud as he is to see her do so well, they both can’t deny the strain it put on their relationship.  
   
“Of course.” He mumbles, throwing his hands up. “I’ll be outside, I need some air.”  
   
He hates fighting with her, especially over this subject; it would be entirely less frustrating if the subject of their fights where about not being able to stand each other, or actual mistakes that made it hard to forgive the person. Instead, they fight about how much they miss each other and need more time together.  
   
Time that they’re just not granted.  
   
He sits outside the patio of his Oklahoma residence, the air cold and brisk but provide him with the much needed refreshment. His mind wanders off to tomorrow, when he’ll be on a plane to Nashville, playing his second sold out fair. Gwen was supposed to come with him, only to be whisked away by her manager—apparently you lose the luxury of off time when your first solo album debuts with over 300 thousand sales in its first week.  
   
He’s not surprised to see her soar after diving into what she considered ‘a make or break career move’; his faith in her has always been unwavering. He also knows nothing about numbers like _that_ , seeing her dominate the music industry both inspiring and intimidating.  
   
The cold of the outside air starts to get to him a little bit, making him rub his hands together before placing them on his knees. He was raised here, so the weather conditions are ones that he’s used to, but he finds himself silently wishing he was covered up by a warm duvet, fingers wrapped snugly around some hot coffee, Gwen softly pressed against him without all the tensions of the outside world bothering them.  
   
He hears the patio door softly sliding open and then shutting again, footsteps coming closer and closer until her hesitant voice reaches his ears.  
   
“Can I sit?”

He looks up to find her with her phone still in her hands, her thick coat all the way zipped to her chin. These weather conditions aren’t Gwen’s favorite, and if they didn’t find themselves wrapped up in so much tension, he’d laugh at her attire—he’d offer to warm her up one way or another.  
   
“Sure.” He nods, his gaze reaching far across the nature in front of him. His hand comes up to the back of his neck, rubbing painfully at the tension mounting there.  
   
“I couldn’t say no to this, Blake.” She starts quietly, the feeling of her gaze burns hotly on his cheek. “If I had known they wanted to film this interview _now_ , I would’ve asked to reschedule, but it came as a surprise to the both of us.”  
   
He pauses as her words take hold, knowing that what she’s saying sounds rational, but his whole being seemingly persistent on feeling rejected.  
   
“Like you said, sometimes things just go that way.”  
   
He watches Gwen nod softly out of the corner of his eye, her hand touching at the bun that’s messily set on top of her head.  
   
“I don’t want to miss your performance.” She admits with a sad smile. “You know how much I love seeing you up on stage—you _know_ that.”  
   
“Maybe I don’t.”  
   
If he had not been so emotionally strung out from everything, he probably would’ve realized how ridiculous his thoughts were, but in his current slightly-irrational state, it seems like a completely reasonable conclusion.

Gwen fixes him with a disbelieving stare. “Maybe you _don’t_? Really, Blake?”  
   
Maybe he’s a bit too harsh, maybe it’s unfair to expect her to follow his jumbled train of thought, but between today’s change of plans and her much better attitude about this, he’s losing his patience. Fast.  
   
He shrugs. “You tell me how much you want me, but I’ve had to basically _drag_ you out here the last two times and now you’re casually bailing on me a day before I’m scheduled to perform. So yeah, I’m finding it a bit hard to believe you this time.”  
   
She sighs loudly, her eyes watering in the process.  
   
“You don’t trust me.” She spits out angrily. “You put me on this insane pedestal, always thinking about how I must lose interest in you at some point and this is you convincing yourself of that. Yet, I’m here with you now; I’ve been here with you for the last four days, and I would be here for many more if responsibilities didn’t come knocking.”  
   
“Gwen, that’s not— “  
   
“And to top it off, you’re blaming me for something you know I have _zero_ say in. If it were Brandon calling, you’d do the same fucking thing.”  
   
“It’s not about just this incident though, Gwen.” Blake protests weakly. “It’s about me feeling like you don’t want to spend time with me.”  
   
“You think I would come out here with you for four days, in the middle of my press tour after just having released my album, if I didn’t _want_ to spend time with you?”  
   
He looks at her as she cocks her head, her mouth slightly parted as it always does when she gets annoyed. 

This is the thing they’ve both been dreading; their careers getting in the way so much, all sanity gets thrown out of the damn window.  
   
“I don’t know.” Blake whispers in silent defeat, her arguments strong and rational, yet his mind has a hard time wrapping itself around it. “I don’t know _what_ I feel.”  
   
Gwen nods knowingly, biting her lip with a vengeance.  
   
“I can’t do this with you right now.” She snaps, her head looking up at the sky. “I’m gonna go back to LA and you just figure out what the hell you want from me.”  
   
Her sharp words surprise him, Gwen usually handling herself with more finesse—her little outburst a bit out of character.  
   
“I can drive you.” He tries quietly, really not wanting her to have to call a car.  
   
“No.” She shakes her head furiously, heading back inside as she speaks. “You _can’t_.”  
   
He wants to reach out for her, call out her name to stop her from walking away, but he does neither. Things have never been this rocky between them; his own insecurities seemingly colliding with hers in some of the most unfortunate ways.  
   
He stays put for a while longer, the chilly temperature now starting to hurt his joints; a burn he decides to bask in as it keeps his mind occupied with something else besides Gwen leaving his place to get on a plane.  
   
By the time he’s ready to get up, Gwen’s no longer there. It doesn’t surprise him, she told him she had to leave, but there’s an underlying hopeful feeling that wished she’d stayed, that gets crushed relentlessly by the discovery of her departure. He doesn’t feel like cooking himself dinner or staying up any longer to watch the sun lose its battle with the moon. 

His bed has never looked better.  
   
*  
   
The show went well as always, only this time the crowd seemed even more excited. He knows his popularity in country music keeps growing—his manager won’t let a day go by without reminding him of that. To see the fruits of his labour come to fruition like this, is the closest thing to magic. It’s undoubtedly more bittersweet too, the thought of Gwen missing out on this weighing heavy on his mind and heart.  
   
He’s been thinking about last night continuously, hating the way he blamed her for something so out of her control, whilst also hating being put in this position by their careers. One thing he knows for certain though, is that he loves her. He needs to make things right and he knows exactly what to do to show her he’s genuinely apologetic.  
   
The driver makes sure to drive him to the airport, from where he originally would go back to Oklahoma. His decision to change course has everything to do with his guilt over how he handled his own insecurities, accusing Gwen of not wanting to spend time with him. He knows how stressed she’s been, trying to juggle her flourishing career, her band, her fashion line _and_ her boyfriend.  
   
The arrival at the airport goes quick and smoothly; the rather late hour making it undeniably less of a hassle. He’s lucky to be able to catch a last-minute red-eye, the amount of traveling he’s doing these days making him dizzy. He always knew that once his dreams started to come true and he’d be able to be a country singer professionally, that it would entail more traveling, but it’s never quite been part of his dream.  
   
He shoots Gwen a quick text before boarding, just making sure she’s home. The reply is quick and to the point, indicating she’s still upset—which doesn’t come as a surprise. For now, he’s grateful to have gotten a response at all; her words implying she’s exhausted and is aiming for an early night.  
   
The four-hour flight gives him enough time to steadily built up an armoury of nerves. Los Angeles is never the place to be for him to ease his anxiety, but showing up to surprise his angry girlfriend doesn’t do much to help. The moment the car nears the destination of her house, his nerves finally go down a bit—as it feels like the right thing to do.  
   
He’s still taken aback by the luxury of her house and the infrastructure surrounding it; it almost seems like something out of a movie, something he’s heard about but has never seen up close. He knows that now. He knows Gwen now.  
   
Sometimes it’s still a bit too much to wrap his head around.  
   
He pays the driver with cash he’d gotten out of the ATM at LAX, a friendly smile plastered on his face. He hears the car take off behind him, but all his attention is solely focused on the house in front of him. He rubs at the back of his head almost awkwardly, suddenly aware he’s arriving here with literally nothing; he should’ve thought to get her something— flowers, chocolate, anything. He silently curses himself for forgetting, but decides not to ponder on it for too long. He’s here now and he can only hope that’ll be enough.  
   
The walk up her driveway is long and tiring, his energy levels at zero from the show and the draining flight, his body begging for him to just lay down. He wills the tired thoughts away, mostly by thinking of what he’s about to do, spiking his adrenaline just enough to momentarily forget about his fatigue. He takes a few seconds to collect himself before ringing her doorbell, fidgeting on his feet a little as he laughs at his own nerves.  
   
It takes a while for the door to open, numerous scenarios already flooding his mind before she stands before him. Her small frame stands in the doorway with nothing but her nightgown and long robe, held together by her free hand. Her eyes widen as she takes in the sight in front of her, Blake’s nerves growing again at her silence.  
   
“Blake?” She asks almost in disbelief, a shaky breath escaping her lips. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you….” 

She shakes her head as she lets the words trail off, seemingly flabbergasted.  
   
“Can I come in?”  
   
She sounds guilty when she realizes she’s still blocking the doorway, stepping aside immediately—much to his relief.  
   
“Of course, sorry.”  
   
He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he steps into the familiar space of her house, having found his one piece of solace and safety here in this city.  
   
“Blake, really, why are you here?”  
   
He steps over to her, his arm reaching out for her. She takes her time complying and when she does it’s with rational caution; she lets him move her closer, but doesn’t reach out for him in return.  
   
“I’m sorry about how I handled the whole situation yesterday, Gwen. I should never have reacted that way and definitely shouldn’t have accused you of things I _know_ aren’t true.”  
   
She smiles sadly, the pain and confusion evident on her face and he feels it everywhere. Gwen’s pain is just like her happiness; it seeps over into every part of your being, her emotions so vivid he sometimes feels them as his own.  
   
“I’ve tried to schedule around you so many times…”  
   
“I know.” Blake admits softly, a bit ashamed to say she’s right.  
   
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner that this is how you felt?”  
   
He scratches at the place behind his ear, not ready to put his own insecurities in the spotlight like this. His hand runs down her arm gently, hoping to convey some of his regret and need for her with the soft gesture.  
   
“We always knew it was going to be a challenge…” He deflects, his eyes breaking their gaze. “I know it won’t always be easy and you’re not always going to be able to be there.”  
   
She shakes her head, her fingers lifting his chin up, demanding eye contact. “Blake, that’s not what I asked.”  
   
“I know what you asked.” He replies pointedly, biting his lip. “I’m just telling you it doesn’t matter—I was wrong.”  
   
Her hand drops from his face and her legs carry her away from him instantly. The sudden change in demeanour makes him panic internally, her face looking less than amused.  
   
“If you’re not here to have an honest conversation with me right now, I don’t want it.”  
   
There aren’t many occasions in which she’s been this confrontational towards him, demanding him to let go of the walls he’s built in an almost aggressive manner.  
   
“Gwen, what do you want— “  
   
“—I want you to talk to me.” She interjects, matter of factly. “ _Really_ talk to me.”  
   
“I am talking to you.” He tries hopelessly, the emotionally draining few days and the fatigue of his show all catching up with him again.  
   
“You’re deflecting.”  
   
Looking up at her, he finds only determination and honesty in her eyes—the sight making him feel slightly defeated as it becomes obvious there’s no escaping this conversation. He’s always found it easy to talk to Gwen, but here in this moment he can’t seem to get his mouth to work, his insecurities and baggage all forming an impossible lump in his throat.  
   
He clears his throat loudly, pushing his tongue against the back of his teeth.  
   
“The last time I went home and you weren’t there, I threw my key on the dinner table and sat down, realizing it was normal. I didn’t expect you to be there, it didn’t feel out of place to _not_ see you sit on the couch and cradle one of these damn disgusting coffees.”  
   
She smiles despite his vulnerable words, her eyes softening as she inaudibly urges him to go on. He doesn’t necessarily know where he’s going with his little speech, but luckily his mouth seems to have a mind of its own right now.  
   
“You have to be at a million and one places, but rarely ever with me. I know that’s not your fault, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I miss you.” He admits, his eyes holding her gaze. “I miss you all the time and I don’t know, sometimes my mind likes tricking me into thinking that maybe you don’t.”  
   
She walks closer to him again, but not close enough to initiate physical contact. His eyes never waver from her face, watching the parting of her lips only for them to close again, her teeth biting down softly onto the bottom one.  
   
“You think I don’t miss you?”  
   
He shrugs, the answer honestly not clear to him.  
   
“Blake, I miss you like crazy when I’m away from you.” Her voice is slightly higher than normal, the thought of him doubting her a painful one. “I arrived back here yesterday after our fight and I still missed you; walking off that damn plane with only _my_ bags and suitcases literally felt like a punch to the gut.”  
   
He couldn’t look away from her face even if he wanted to, he almost started feeling like he _had_ to, but he didn’t. Eventually she grew red in the face a bit, her eyebrow raising again, silently asking him to speak up.  
   
“I think it’s just the lack of time spent together that’s getting to me, Gwen.” He explains it the only way it makes sense to him, his own mind feeling like a riddle he can’t solve sometimes. “I haven’t been making enough effort either.”  
   
She looks like he took away the words on the tip of her tongue, nodding gratefully.  
   
“You can’t put all that weight on my shoulders when you know I’m trying.” She speaks softly, her eyes watering in front of him.  
   
He breathes through his nose deeply, the words not necessarily wrong but hard to hear nonetheless.  
   
“It’s hard to try sometimes when I’m not even sure you’d appreciate it.”  
   
“Stop.” She says immediately, her voice sounding flat. It unnerved him immensely to hear; Gwen’s emotions never the ones to be shut down like that—to shut _him_ down like that. “You’re doing it again; you’re blaming me instead of just admitting you fucked up.”  
   
Blake shifts uncomfortably on his feet, his mouth drying. He can’t remember a time where expressing himself had been this hard.  
   
“I fucked up?” Offense dripping from his words suddenly. “I’ve been there! Have I always scheduled around you? No, you’re right. But you weren’t even gonna be there most of the time anyways. You can’t schedule around someone who’s _always_ gone.”  
   
“I’m not always gone!” She retorts quickly, her head shaking. “I don’t understand—you’re a recording artist yourself, you’re in the studio or performing the majority of the time too. If this was just about _me_ being gone all the time, we wouldn’t even have this problem. Don’t you get that?”  
   
His manager did manage to get him more shows this year than ever before; a hopeful place deep down had expected Gwen to come out to many more than she has in reality. He tried to accept the shows that were closest to where she would be, being able to meet each other somewhere when all was said and done.

A meeting in the middle of some sorts.

He stopped doing that the last couple times though, a bitter taste coating the inside of his mouth at the realization.  
   
“How many times have I been there for those nine hour photoshoots you have, just sitting in the back, being there? How many times have I flown out to meet you somewhere after my show had ended?”  
   
His brain seems fogged up with the things Gwen _hadn’t_ done, unable to push past these negative thoughts telling him he’s once again more invested than his partner; never getting rid of these unfairly distributed efforts.  
   
“You know what….” She shakes her head before throwing her hands up in fake surrender, her finger wagging at him. “Why don’t I just quit my damn job? Follow you around like a damn groupie and just turn my back to every other responsibility I have going on?”  
   
“Gwen, that’s not— “  
   
“—That’s not what you meant? Not what you want?” She follows up quickly, chuckling under her breath. “Because that’s exactly what you’re telling me right now.”  
   
“I’m _telling_ you I need more from you.” He pushes, stepping forward now too. “I’m telling you I miss you.”  
   
“No.” She hisses, her finger poking in his chest now. “You’re telling me you miss me and I need to fix it. Not us, but _me_! This isn’t even really about that though; this is about distance triggering your insecurities and you being unable to talk to me about it.”  
   
Her honesty spills from her lips so fast and unfiltered, he feels it like a physical slap to the face. His breath is coming out in short fragments now, feeling the pressure in his chest to the point where it becomes too painful to focus on it. His body not even feeling like it’s his in this moment.  
   
She sighs in frustration when he doesn’t speak up after her rant, biting her lip hard.  
   
“I have another one of those photoshoots you like sitting in on _so_ much tomorrow…” She starts, exaggerating when she refers to his earlier accusation. “So I’m gonna go to bed now.”  
   
Despite having announced it, watching her turn her back to him hurts. He wants to reach out for her, anything to keep her standing with him, but he can’t get himself to do much. It’s not until she’s almost around the corner that his mouth finally starts working with him a little bit, his mouth still dry when he speaks.  
   
“I’m scared...” He blurts out, his voice sounding like a raspy mess; something ugly and weak and he winces at the sound of it.  
   
It got Gwen to stand still though, so he tries to count at least that one win. She turns around, the distance between them suddenly not feeling so bad.  
   
“I’m scared of my life not aligning with yours anymore, if it ever has at all.” He continues softly, the air in his lungs leaving way too quickly. “I’m scared you’ll end up wanting to be everywhere else but with me. I stop trying sometimes because I don’t want the inevitable rejection. I don’t want you to feel like I’m holding you back, just like I don’t want to feel like any of _my_ achievements are secret curses.”  
   
Her deep sigh is loud enough to be heard in the large room, her body coming towards him slowly. He takes in the way her hand motions him closer, obeying her silent demand. Her hand lands on his bicep without any pressure; a mere brush of contact to tell him it’s okay.  
   
“I want to be with you, Blake.” She states softly, her own voice now overcome with emotion too. Her eyes keep staring at him, his own filling at the way she demands everything in his heart to be felt. “Do you really think I’d get this emotional over it if I only ever spent time with you out of obligation?”  
   
He feels her hand slide to back of his neck, pulling his head down so their foreheads rest against each other.  
   
“I know we haven’t seen each other enough and it’s messing with our heads, especially yours...” She smiles softly, her thumb stroking his chin. “That’s why I need you to talk to me, Blake. Tell me so we can stop these thoughts from running wild.”  
   
His jaw is clenched so tightly, he feels the ache in his teeth. She must notice because she now replaces her thumb with her whole hand, cupping his cheek.

The feeling of her skin against his there, makes it undeniable easier for him to relax a little. She smiles when she feels some of the tension ease out from underneath her palm.  
   
“I’m sorry for blaming you.” He whispers, his hand now coming around her back, initiating contact for the first time since he started spilling out his truths.  
   
“It’s okay.”  
   
“I didn’t mean to…. I came here to apologize, not blame you.”

“I owe you an apology too.” She says softly, her face only a few inches away from his. “I got so frustrated with being away from you all the time, I just tried to ignore how bad it really was.”  
   
“We gotta figure something out.” He says then, placing a soft lingering kiss to her lips. “I love you so much, I can’t continue to see you on this weird schedule we have going on.”  
   
She shakes her head, a tear falling from her eyes.

“Me neither. I’ve missed just getting to do this, you know?”  
   
He raises his eyebrow, smiling softly. 

“Arguing?” He teases.  
   
She laughs at that, her arm now completely thrown around his neck, pressing herself closer.  
   
“No, not arguing.” She smiles. “Being close to you like this. You haven’t been holding me enough.”  
   
He looks at the soft expression in her dark brown eyes, engulfing her with both arms now as he scatters soft kisses along her neck. He feels her soft breathes against his shoulder as she lets him nuzzle kisses until they’re both dizzy. He holds her like that for what feels like hours; his gruelling exhaustion finally reaching a boiling point.

His yawns become almost compulsory as he tries to disguise them by holding her even closer. He doesn’t fight her when she pulls out of his grasp though, looking at him knowingly.   
   
“Let’s go to bed.” She utters quietly, having a hard time letting go of him long enough to walk towards the bedroom.  
   
When he finally finds himself in the same bed with her again, she scoots over to him and damn near climbs on top of him. She settles with her leg swung over his and her arm tossed over his stomach, her head on his chest. 

He wants to bottle up this feeling and remember it forever. The way she feels against him reminding him of everything that’s good; BBQ’s in July, children laughing on a beach, food to a starving man. He can hear and see it all, never needing anything more than her body pressing down against him—reminding him he’s always been worth saving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're entering the angsty part of this story. Things are gonna get worse before they get better. Just trying to keep this story as realistic as possible and navigating a relationship during this point in their careers wouldn't have been easy..


	11. Chapter 11

_August, 2005_

 

“Let’s give a ‘round of applause to the man himself.” His manager pats his back triumphantly, holding his other hand out for Blake to shake. “Congratulations on the completion of your first headlining tour.”

A wave of noise erupts from the backstage area; champagne being popped and dramatically poured, while people walk up to hug and pat him like he’s won something. Maybe he has, because his eyes immediately fly over to her small frame leaning against the opposite wall. Her smile is wide as ever, her eyes sparkling with amazement. Her bottom lip is trapped between her teeth while her hands cradle a champagne glass.

He hasn’t been spending as much time with her as he would’ve liked, this year having been all about touring and recording so far. Gwen hasn’t had much time to be there with him either; recording her second solo album something she just had to do in LA, her studio there the most familiar. He doesn’t blame her, but he’s missed getting to talk to her after every show.

She’s wearing blue jeans that she rolled up a bit, exposing the skin on her ankles while wearing a pair of black pumps. The black blazer she decided to wear over her skin-tight black t-shirt does nothing to hide her beautiful form, her red lips just begging to be kissed.

Maybe it’s the lack of time spent together, but somehow she looks even better than usual.

He reminds himself of the fact they’re still in public before he lets his feet drag him over to where she’s standing, most people in the room occupied with socializing and celebrating anyways. She pushes her back off the wall when she sees him approach, making it easier for him to slide his arm around her as he pulls her closer into him.

“Come here.”

She smiles before throwing her arm around his neck carefully, making sure she doesn’t drop her glass in the process. Both of his arms are now around her lower back, basking in the closeness. The fruity scent of her shampoo hits him in all the right ways, suddenly much more aware of everything he misses when she’s not there.

“I’m glad you could make it, pretty girl.”

She bites her lip and blushes, and Blake takes notice of her reaction immediately—making a mental note about using that pet name more often.

“I wouldn’t miss it.” She says sweetly, leaning in for a quick kiss.

“Don’t leave me again.” He sounds like a whiney child, but he doesn’t care. She doesn’t seem to mind either, cause her lips curl up into a wide smile, her arm tightening around him.

“I was thinking actually, since you’re done with touring for a while, you could maybe come back home with me to LA and spend some quality time there….” She bites her lip while pushing her chest into his. “…. Take some time off to just be with me.”

She’s been coming to Oklahoma more lately than he’s made the effort to meet her in LA, he knows that. He leans forward again, this time to place a soft kiss on her forehead.

“I think that’s a great idea.”

Her eyes widen and he suppresses the sour taste in his mouth at her surprised reaction.

“Really?”

He nods, his hand rubbing slowly across her back. “Yeah. I missed you and I just want to be wherever you’ll be.”

She leans her head against his shoulder, both arms still swung around his neck. They both seem to need this moment more than anything; holding each other in a room full of people, being oblivious to everything that’s not them. He looks down at the gorgeous woman in his arms to find out she’s already looking.

“Do you know how gorgeous you are, Gwen?” He speaks the words directly against her ear, keeping her close to him. “Like _holy shit_ , babe.”

Her lips part into a smirk, but she can’t hide the blush on her cheeks. “I don’t look any different than usual, cowboy.”

He hums, leaning down to place a kiss in the crook of her neck, being close enough to hear her soft gasp.

“You’re always gorgeous.”

“How long do you think we have to stay here?” She asks suggestively, her eyebrows raising as she briefly glances around the room.

“Shit.” He curses to no one in particular, suddenly losing all interest in celebrating here with his friends as he just wants to get her home and into his bed. “Not long, I promise you that sweetheart.”

She laughs as she finally pulls away from their embrace, bringing the champagne glass to her lips. Despite missing her heat and the feeling of her body so tightly against his, he can see why that was the best thing to do. He rubs his hand over his mouth and chin, taking a few seconds to get his bearings back.

He engages in the usual chatter with his buddies backstage, smiling to himself when he catches Gwen socializing with some people from his team. It’s true that she just gets along with everyone, making people fall in love with her from the first meeting. He drinks a bit, but not enough to get him tipsy, wanting to be fully focused when he finally gets to take her out of here.

He’s momentarily whisked out of his inner dialogue when his manager sits down next to him, cradling a bottle of beer instead of the bubbly champagne that’s being passed around.

“I’m proud of you, man. Really.” Brandon’s hand lands on his upper arm, smiling gently.

“Thank you, brother. That means a lot.”

It still doesn’t quite feel real to Blake; the way country music seemed to have suddenly accepted him as a credible artist in the genre, having gone from opening for Rascal Flatts in the beginning of the year, to finishing a headlining show of his own in the same one.

“Things are only gonna get better for you.” Brandon continues enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he thinks about what else is in store for him. “This CMT’s greatest duet concert is another huge opportunity for you. I don’t think you realize just _how_ big yet.”

Blake’s eyes widen suddenly, the CMT concert having completely escaped his mind throughout it all. Again, he’s truly grateful for everything that’s happening, but sometimes it just feels like things won’t ever slow down; making this relationship with Gwen that much harder to maintain.

“Hey, about that...” Blake starts carefully, not wanting to come off as anything less than excited. “When is it again exactly? I kinda promised my girl to go back home with her for a while.”

Brandon looks at him in understanding, nodding once. “It’s next month. I know a lot is happening all at once, but you just go home, spend some time with Gwen—it’ll be good for you. You’ll be refreshed and ready once it’s time for you to shine on that CMT stage.”

He nods gratefully.

He knows getting close to three weeks off is a lot in this industry, and he’s grateful to get to spend those off days with Gwen. It’s with that explanation that he excuses himself off the couch, walking up behind Gwen as he whispers into her ear.

“Are you ready to get out of here, darlin’?”

She flashes him a knowing smile, nodding immediately. “Yeah.”

They both say their goodbyes, thanking everyone for their good care and hard work during the tour. By the time they’re ready to leave the venue, his team got a car ready at the back entrance to take them home.

They sit closely the whole car ride, yet their touches are kept at a minimum. It takes close to forty-five minutes before they finally arrive at his place, paying the driver generously before closing the door as they watch the car drive off into the distance. Gwen’s the first one to lose control, her body pressing into his roughly as she slams her lips against his.

He catches her with a chuckle, his hand moving up to her cheek as he deepens the kiss for a few moments.

“Gwen, come on…” He mumbles in between kisses, stumbling a bit to get them towards the house. “Let’s go inside.”

It seems to physically pain her to pull away from him, the sight of her so desperate turning him on even more. The walk to his doorstep is suddenly way too long, fumbling with the keys once he finally gets there. The door hasn’t closed for more than two seconds before his hands reach out for her again, pushing her up against the nearest wall.

His leg comes up between hers to keep her in place, his head ducking to that place between her neck and shoulder blades. Her sweet gasps accompany him almost every move, grinning softly against her skin.

“Don’t tease me.” She whispers, her nails digging into his back.

His response comes in the form of a kiss, his tongue pushing past her red lips in earnest. Her hands move up to the back of his head, desperate at keeping the contact going.

“ _Fuck_.” He breathes against her now slick mouth. “The bedroom…”

She shakes her head against him, her hand sliding to his waist as she pushes him forward, the pressure there making them both groan.

“Take me here.”

His hands move down her curves, resting on her hips. The words she just spoke are almost enough to send him over the edge already, needing desperately for her to catch up with him. It must be in record time that they disregard their clothing, her leg hooking around his thigh while her hand steadies herself against his shoulder.

He suddenly can’t control himself any longer, dipping his knees slightly so he can hoist her body up, waiting for her to wrap both legs around his midsection. She does so immediately, her arms coming around his neck.

“Now.” She whispers, her breathing ragged and uneven. “Please.”

He reaches between them and positions himself against her center, leaning into her without entering—pushing her more firmly against the wall.

She whimpers at the enhanced contact, while simultaneously voicing her frustration about him still not being inside her. He uses one hand to guide her face towards him, claiming her lips once again as they make out passionately.

“Blake, _pl_ —” her plea is cut off by a thrust off his hips, entering her quickly and without warning. Her head snaps back against the wall, her eyes rolling back with a moan.

“I know what you want.” Blake rasps lowly, slowing down his movements as he gives her some time to adjust.

Being with her like this will never get old. The feeling she ignites within him multiplying in their moments of passion; the inpouring of love overwhelming sometimes.

“I’m ready.” She thrusts her hips up at him, moaning at the increased contact she creates. “Fuck me, Blake. Hard.”

He doesn’t think he’s able to do anything else in this moment, one hand grabbing her waist while the other one finds solace on the wall behind her. He establishes a rough and fast rhythm, making her cry out with every forward thrust of his hips.

“How’s that, baby?” He grunts against her ear, shifting positions a little. “God, you feel so good just like this.”

“God Blake.” She breathes heavily.

He replies with a moan of his own as he pushes deeper inside her, grinning to himself when he realizes he must’ve hit her spot; her eyes closing and hands gripping his hair tightly.

She lets out a mixed cry of pleasure and relief when he hits the same spot repeatedly, not varying in his movements at all, instead overloading her with the feeling she wants most. Her face is beautiful when it turns up to the ceiling, her head hitting the wall again with a soft thud. The tightening of her muscles around him is consistent now.

She cries out his name so many times he loses count, the feeling and sight of Gwen falling apart for him forever the most addictive drug in the world. Her hands push at his chest as if to indicate it’s too much, but her words express the opposite.

“I know you’re close too, baby—don’t stop.”

He recognizes that feeling in the pit of his stomach, indicating he’s indeed close to the edge. He grunts her name, the hot feeling in his gut barrelling up quickly. He’s almost sad for it to be over soon, the feeling too good to ever go without. The sweet gasp that sounds like his name is the final straw; his movements become more jerky and he pushes himself flush against her, breathing harshly into her neck.

He feels her hand come up to the back of his head, cradling him against her until his breathing evens out.

His limbs are starting to ache a bit from holding her up against the wall for as long as he has, his body feeling considerably weaker after coming harder than he has in a long while.

“God, I love you.” He says softly, his head lifting slightly to meet her eyes.

She smiles widely. “I love you too, cowboy.”

She finds one of his hands to hook their fingers together against the wall. His head leans forward so it rests against her forehead, breathing in each other’s air.

“I really missed you, Blake.” Her voice sounds weak, her breath hitting his now swollen lips. “I need more time with you.”

Blake nods against her, his heart feeling painfully heavy all the sudden. His finger brushes against her cheek, his thumb tracing her bottom lip.

“I know.” He squints his eyes shut, the guilt from her pained expression too much. “We both do.”

She nods once.

He moves in to kiss her again at the first hint of tears in her eyes.

 

*

 

His fingers have barely brushed the edge of his cell phone before she reaches for it and tucks it away in the pocket of her jeans. The quickness in which she just reached for it surprising them both.

“Gwen.” He huffs, growling a little bit. “That’s Brandon.”

“Exactly.” She replies pointedly, shrugging him off when he appears in her line of vision, trying to reach for it back. “You promised this weekend would be work free.”

He sighs audibly, knowing she’s right whilst also knowing he won’t be able to get out of this one. His hand reaches for the side of her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. She takes it upon herself to get rid of all the distance, both her arms coming around his back, pressing her chest against his in earnest.

“Who knows how long we’ll get this time.” She whispers softly, her eyes looking up at his. “Let’s not waste a second of it.”

He smiles down at her, her words sounding like a distant dream.

His hand cups her cheek again, smiling when she leans into the touch of his palm. He’s still struck with just as much awe as when he first met her, having her this close being nearly surreal.

“I need to talk to you about something.” He says hesitantly, his hand still cupping her cheek.

“Okay.” She concedes easily. “About what?”

“Brandon got me this gig at a CMT special next month. They paired me up with this other singer to perform a duet and I have to get back in three weeks to rehearse on the main stage.”

He’s half expecting her to walk away from him, bracing himself for the inevitable distance, but it never comes. She stays put in his arms, her eyes looking at him with a sad expression.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I promised I would take some time off to be with you, but I forgot I’d said yes to this—the stress of tour and everything that’s been going on, it honestly slipped my mind.”

She nods, her lips slightly parted. “The rehearsal, it’s in Nashville?”

“Yeah, it is.” He answers softly. “Up until then, I’m all yours Gwen. I don’t have anything else lined up.”

One of her hands comes up to rub at her temple, her frustration palpable despite her calm demeanour.

“So who are you paired up with?” She asks suddenly, her remaining closeness still a bit confusing. “To sing with?” She adds.

“Uhm, her name is Miranda. I honestly don’t know much about her—we’ve never met before.”

“But she’s a country singer too?”

Blake nods. “Yeah, she’s really talented.”

There’s a small silence, her gaze adverting away from him now. He nudges her softly, desperately trying to break the mood they’ve found themselves in.

“Baby, I know our schedules have been crazy and nothing seems to align right now, but we always knew things wouldn’t be easy with both our careers.”

Gwen swallows roughly, finally creating that distance he dreaded all along. She takes a few steps away from him, seemingly trying to make sense of things too.

“I understand that, Blake.” She says matter of factly, her hand raking through her hair. “I just think it’s weird it just _slipped your mind_ to tell me you’re going to perform a duet with another female country artist.”

Blake’s eyes widen, unable to help the small grin forming on his lips.

“Gwen, are you kidding me with this right now?”

She exhales shakily, throwing her hands up. “I don’t know, Blake. It just all seems weird and you’re breaking promises.”

“I forgot!” He exclaims louder then he intended, her words starting to seriously offend him. “It has nothing to do with what I’m doing or who I’m singing with—things have just been all over the place lately.”

“You don’t think things have been crazy for me?” She retorts quickly. “What would you have done if I kept from you that I was going to bail on our time together to rehearse with another guy?”

Blake scoffs, his hand going to the back of his head. “For crying out loud, you’re in a band with your ex-boyfriend.”

Her gaze lowers to the floor, obviously having hit a nerve.

“It’s not even about her.” She says then, her head shaking. “It’s about you keeping it from me, it’s about having to give up time with you _again_.”

He shakes his head, hating how they seem to find themselves here every single time; their schedules never _not_ being the root of their fights. As much as he hates to admit it, they’re not making it work the way they thought they would.

“I can cancel it if you want. I’ll drop out of the line-up.”

“You can’t just cancel, Blake.”

She’s right. He’s making desperate attempts to try and save what they have left, clinging to the small remnants of hope in his mind, telling him they’re not rapidly approaching disaster.

“Then what the hell do we do, Gwen?” He shakes his head, his chest hurting. “There’s always going to be a next gig, a next show.”

He sighs again, feeling everything drain out of him; the fight, his earlier intentions, all of it.

Looking at her doesn’t make him feel much better. Her arms are folded across her chest, her small frame looking like it’s in the process of shutting down.

“I want us to work out, Blake.”

“But?” He prompts, catching on to the fact that there’s more, and she’s clearly holding back.

“But I don’t know how anymore.” She admits. The normally clear brown of her eyes are at least two shades darker now, clouded with pain and insecurity.

He feels like he’s frozen in place, his hand rubbing over his face less than elegantly.

“What the hell does that mean, Gwen?” He asks, voice softening while his words grow more frustrated.

Her eyes fill with water, the sight a painful one to behold.

“I don’t know how to do this without it all falling apart in the end.”

“Cause you’ve never been in a functional relationship before.” He states, ready to protest as a last wave of fight makes its way into his body.

“Do you think _this_ is functional?” She retorts, wincing at the look she finds on his face. “I mean, yes, we’re crazy about each other, but this isn’t working. _We_ aren’t working.”

“I don’t want to lose you.”

He doesn’t know what else to say, every thought shattering in his brain except for that one: he doesn’t want to lose her, not now, not ever.

“I know.” She sighs, her voice breaking.

“I want to be with you.”

The tears she’d been fighting so far make their way down now, her lips parting on a shallow breath.

“I know that too.”

He doesn’t blame her for her inarticulate responses; she looks fragile, broken, and if they weren’t in this place right now, he’d wrap her up in his arms and kiss all the pain away.

It’s hard to figure out how they got to this place, both dreading the inevitable. They need more from each other, which sounds so simple to fix but in reality puts them at a dead end. He wants the same thing she wants, the same thing she _needs_ ; a promise of forever.

Standing in front of her right now, it kills him to know he can’t give her that. Not sure if he believes in it himself anymore.

Minutes pass before he speaks.

“So what do we do?”

Her tears are a steady flow, her hand doing very little to disguise the breathy sobs that escape her mouth.

“I don’t know.”

Silence falls again, stretching well beyond the point of awkward. It’s tense and it hurts—more badly than Blake ever remembered something hurting. They went through so much trouble, so much patience to get where they are. And now they’ve come to this giant impasse, one with no easy solution.

“What do _you_ want?” She asks shakily, the responsibility of being on this end of the conversation not one she’s capable of carrying.

The question is easy, he wants her—like he always has. She’s extraordinary and he knows he loves her like he’s never loved anyone before. He knows that he wants her with him, now and forever. What he _doesn’t_ know, is whether he’s capable of carrying that out.

“I always want you, Gwen.” He blurts out, his sudden determination startling her. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you perform for the first time, and there’s never been a moment where I didn’t ever since. But I don’t want this to become something that hurts us.”

He watches her face fall again, knowing her well enough to know that she’s trying desperately to safe face—to not fall apart in front of him. His hands dig deep into his pants pocket, forcing himself not to reach out, despite his whole entire being wanting nothing more than to just hold her.

“That’s not what I want either.” She admits on a pained whisper. “I don’t ever want to resent you…. resent _us_.”

The meaning of her words feel like a punch to the gut, his heart hammering against his chest. He knows she’s silently pleading with him to do the hard part, but it feels like an impossible task. The weight of that not something that should fall solely on his shoulders.

“But I can’t just….” He finally withdraws hands from his pockets, running them over his face exasperatedly. “…. How do I just walk away?”

Her exterior breaks then, her face crumbling as she turns around. He hears her irregular breathing, her body shaking slightly as she’s incapable of facing him any longer. He feels his own tears fall when he steps forward and reaches out for her.

She doesn’t need any more prompting, her body turning around into his, burying her face into his shoulder as her arm comes around his neck.

“I love you.”

He doesn’t know whether the sob that escapes him comes from hearing her heartbreaking voice or because he knows why she decided to speak these words now.

“I love you too.” He whispers against the top of her head, his arms pressing painfully tight against her back, unable to let go for the time being.

Holding her as they come to terms with the following separation only reminds him of their stronger than most connection. He feels the beating of her heart as his own, the trembling of her body making him feel beyond vulnerable and raw. Black colours his world as it becomes dark with the image of leaving her, loneliness already crippling his thoughts. The way Gwen clings to him shows him she's not doing much better.

“I don’t think I can watch you leave, Blake.” She admits hoarsely, snuggling into him even more as she speaks those words. “I can’t do that without trying to stop you.”

Blake nods, her implication translating. “What do you want?”

She shudders against him, the wet spot on his shirt now becoming prominent right over his heart, stinging like a physical punch there.

“I’ll go see if my parents are home.” She whispers, still holding on to him. “You can take your stuff out of here then.”

The one positive about living in different states is that most of his stuff isn’t here, traveling lightly whenever he did stay in Los Angeles. Their busy schedules didn’t allow for much operating on their living arrangement plans.

“Okay.” Blake whispers in return, his legs feeling unsteady beneath him.

He buries his face in her hair and kisses the top of her head. He loves her. The knowledge of knowing he doesn’t love her any less than the first time he saw her, hurts more than anything in the world. He feels her other arm lift around his neck also, squeezing tighter as she feels the wetness of his own tears hitting her shoulder. Her complexity and strength have always amazed him; though this is a darker aspect of her emotions, she manages to pick up on his brokenness all the while her walls are currently crumbling down.

“ _Blake_?”

He closes his eyes against the vulnerability of her voice.

“Yes, darlin’?”

She looks up at him brokenly, eyes wet and puffy while some of her mascara has stained her cheeks. He blinks some of his own tears away in case this is the last time he’ll see her—wanting to memorize every detail in perfect clarity.

“Thank you for loving me the way that you have.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm overwhelmed by all the reactions this last chapter got. Thank you so much to everyone who still reads this baby. As we continue into the next part of this story, I think it's good to mention a few things:
> 
> 1\. I know most people are not into reading about the exes. Though, this story will tackle those relationships, I'm not interested in writing G/M storylines. This story will always be about the connection between Blake and Gwen.  
> 2\. The timeline of this story deviates a lot from reality and will continue to do so.  
> 3\. Angst will be present throughout this story, but so will their love and obvious attraction to each other.
> 
> If none of this has scared you off yet, I hope you enjoy this next chapter. Please let me know what you think in the comments!

_February, 2007_

 

It’s been nearly two years since he picked himself up from what had been undoubtedly the worst heartache of his life. He’s never been as vulnerable with another human being the way he was with _her_ ; she saw a part of his soul no one else had. Picking up the pieces from a blow that intense and life-shattering had been the furthest thing from easy.

There had been nights where he ended up drunk and alone on his bathroom floor, unable to remember how he got there in the first place. He’d wake up in the morning with all his joints hurting, the marble tiles having done a number on his back and legs. The smell of alcohol oozed off him in those moments—the crawl towards his shower was less than elegant most of the time.

He went through a phase where he couldn’t possibly let go of everything they once had; still visiting places they used to go to together, still listening to the songs that had become theirs, laying on her side of the bed—anything to keep her memory alive in his brain. There was a time after they’d went parted ways, that he made himself hold on to the thought of a rendezvous. A moment in time where they’d get the chance to make up; holding on to the faith that there will be another time for them to fall in love all over again.

When he’d lost most of his appetite and couldn’t quite remember what his dreams were to begin with, he’d finally reached out to some people, not liking where he was heading at all. Miranda had been there to listen to his hour-long stories about Gwen, to keep him from passing out on his bathroom floor, to stop him from drinking himself into a coma. When things changed from friendship into lovers, he knew there was something not quite adding up; that feeling he used to have with Gwen something so different. Yet, he knew he couldn’t stop trying, shouldn’t give up on his life—even if that meant giving up on a life with Gwen.

Looking around the place he's currently attending makes him realize how much his life has changed altogether. He’d been at the gala for a little over an hour, the reason for his attendance pressed against his side. He’s not necessarily against these things, he just doesn’t consider them worthy of his time; there are a million and one things he enjoys doing more. It’s a nice reminder of where they are though—not just as an individual, but as a couple in country music.

You don’t _just_ get invited to a pre-Grammy party.

The small table they got assigned to doesn’t leave them with much room to themselves, but he winces at the space his girlfriend manages to create for herself. There’s a large amount of alcohol that’s being poured and consumed, but he’s had enough last night—for reasons he probably shouldn’t dwell on. Not when Miranda is sitting right there, having made up for everything that went down before. He’s not quite used to this life yet, the whole anonymity thing long-lost now. His music is being consumed on a much larger scale, the group of people at this party no longer being the prestige kind he embarrassingly to say—kind of looked down upon; he’s one of them now.

Still he’s not fully satisfied. He won’t let himself wonder too long about _why_ that is.

“Did you say hi to Chris yet?” His girlfriend’s voice reaches his ears, looking him up and down. He feels like he’s always being lectured, even when she’s just asking a simple question.

His voice drops nearly a full octave when he tries to answer her. “I saw him right as we walked in, yeah.”

She nods. “Good.”

He grits his teeth. Love for sure is something he hasn’t figured out yet, the whole thing a painful tug and pull between what he wants and needs. What he does and feels. He motions with his hand for her to pull her a chair a bit more towards him, not wanting to come off needy but also not in the mood to have to explain their “distant behaviour” to the media tomorrow. He’s relieved when he’s met with no resistance, his mind left wondering if she’d gotten all her aggressiveness out last night.

“You look nice, you know.”

He’s almost shocked to hear the words come out of her mouth, the close to nervous expression lingering on her face not matching her at all. He smiles softly.

“You always look nice.” He retorts, his arm resting behind her on the chair.

There’s so much he doesn’t understand about where he’s finding himself these days. On one hand, his career has taken off and on the other, he’s been growing emotionally attached to a woman who was there to help pick himself up after Gwen, only to find out they work better on paper than they do in real-life. He’s made so many mistakes throughout his life, but he’s never been this damn _confused_ before.

His thoughts are put on a back burner when he feels a firm tap on his shoulder, looking back to find Tim McGraw beaming down at him.

“Hey man!”

He stands up quickly, engaging in a firm handshake. “Nice to see you again, brother.”

Miranda’s next to him in a heartbeat.

“You look lovely as always.” Tim says before hugging her, patting Blake’s shoulder friendly. “You’ve got yourself a real winner, right there.”

Blake smiles softly, his arm sliding around her back. He ignores how everything feels wrong right now, even as Miranda returns the affection. He can’t shake last night’s fight off as easily as she seems to have done.

“I know.” Blake replies, nodding towards Tim.

“Glad to see you guys could make it. I thought you two might’ve been too busy; I love seeing good things come to good people.”

He knows the thoughts in his head are borderline ungrateful; being here should be all he cares about. His music doing well is everything he’s ever worked for, but it stings to know it’s the only thing he can do half right.

He’s glad to find Miranda answering this time. “We wouldn’t miss it.”

He can’t help but remember how he almost didn’t go. How she’d yelled at him she would rather go alone, a string of curses and insults making it so that he almost agreed to stay home. Somewhere in between her shouting he’d accused her of this being her plan all along, quickly finding out he’d just thrown fuel onto the fire.

“What she said.” Blake refers to his girlfriend’s earlier words, putting on the most genuine smile he can muster.

Back in his seat, he’s grateful for the distraction when the party seems to take off. People he’s never heard of are getting their moment to shine, alongside with some people he does know. He smiles at Miranda when she gets shouted out for being one of country music’s most promising newcomers.

He _does_ really love her, he’s proud of her too.

When she nudges at him after a while and bites her lip, he’s reminded of the woman he fell for. He gets a glimpse of the girl she is when she’s not busy being swallowed by rage or consumed by alcohol. It’s ironic how drinking has become _his_ trademark, yet he’s not the drunk in this relationship, by far.

He leans his head towards her, acknowledging her rare moment of affection.

There gazes are both focused on the stage in front of them; smiling along, clapping out of courtesy, out of excitement when he’s lucky. He’s finally starting to find his way here, around all these people, around Miranda, but he makes the futile mistake of letting his gaze wander around.

The room is dark, which makes it hard to figure out if he’s hallucinating or not, but his breath stops for a second anyways. He can’t tear his eyes away, not even when he makes out the guy next to her, having his arm laying across the back of _her_ chair.

He doesn’t know if her actually catching his gaze and looking back makes things better or worse. He wills himself to focus on his breathing, trying not to start crying or yelling—or both. He’s drowning in her unmoving brown pools; so vivid and clear even from so far away. She’s seated at least five tables away from him, too far to really get his eyes to focus.

Still, he doesn’t need clear vision to see she’s the most beautiful woman in the room.

A rush of guilt rushes into his chest, making him tear his eyes away. He leans into Miranda’s space, placing a quick kiss to her cheek. She returns the gesture with a surprised look, but not rejecting the motion either. She grabs his hand underneath the table, pulling it to rest on her lap. He knows he shouldn’t, definitely not now, but the pull of Gwen’s gaze is too strong. Before he knows it, he’s looking back, finding her with the same expression.

She’s obviously taken aback by running into him here, just like he didn’t give the possibility a single thought. He doesn’t know why he didn’t, she’s one of the biggest stars on this planet—of course she would be here. Out of all the things going on in his life, that actually _does_ make sense.

He swallows hard when the expression on her face changes into one of hesitant happiness over spotting him. It’s been so long since he’s seen her smile directed at him, the sparks in his brain are desperately trying to make sense of it but instead just cause a short circuit.

Being in the same vicinity as her brings back everything he’s tried so hard not to think about. Being confronted with her in this moment strips away at all his defences; her eyes are still as open and honest as ever—making it too easy to find warmth and safety there.

Even looking at her feels like cheating.

He does the right thing and looks away. He looks away for the remaining time he’s seated at his table, his eyes only ever looking straight ahead or back to his girlfriend. His heart and mind might be busy discussing Gwen, but at least his gaze is something she can’t have.

He’s not surprised to find out Miranda is not keen on leaving soon, wanting to drag this night out. He probably would be all for that too if his ex-girlfriend wasn’t here somewhere walking around with that damn smug Englishman on her arm.

He wants to both laugh and yell when the couple is literally right there in his view, getting undeniably closer, before realizing they’re walking his way with intention. He locks his jaw, his arm automatically reaching for Miranda as it settles around her lower back. It’s not really a secret that he’s dated Gwen Stefani—things like that always becoming front page news—but he’s never had his current girlfriend meet her. He’s not super interested to find out how that’s gonna go either, but figures out soon enough that it’s pretty much out of his control. Though, Miranda doesn’t seem too phased by the forced meeting.

The blonde goddess in front of him smiles and he feels it everywhere. He thinks he hates her a little bit for how much of an effect she still has on him.

“Hi.”

He’s not prepared for how it feels to hear her voice again, his heart dropping at the sound. He tries his best to appear in charge of his emotions, not wanting to tip anyone off about his actual state. Not many times in his life has Miranda been the one to keep her cool better than him, but this time she’s winning by a mile. Her smile is as genuine as it gets.

“Blake told me a lot about you.” Is all she says, the interaction between the two women who’ve both stolen and broken his heart in one way or another, making him nauseous.

“I bet he has.” Gwen replies with too much ease, her gaze moving towards him. “It’s been a long time, I’m glad to see you happy again.”

There’s too much going on inside to make sense of it all, but he’s somewhat surprised to find anger as one of the emotions he feels. Anger at Gwen for confronting him with Miranda by his side, with _Gavin_ by hers. Angry by her statement, because she used to know him so well.

He’s at least a little bit pleased to see Gavin not faring much better than him, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else but here in this moment.

“You too.” He forces out, his arm subconsciously tightening his hold on Miranda.

Despite not having anything to do with her anymore, he still can’t stand the side of her being back with that guy. After everything that happened, he wished she would’ve had the strength to not go back. He thought about it a lot after they broke up, deciding at some point to let it go. To let _her_ go.

“Are you guys staying for the after party?” Miranda asks them both, a hint of familiarity in her voice that makes Blake wince; the overly-friendly tone that indicates she means about zero percent of what’s coming out of her mouth.

He doesn’t blame her for not being Gwen’s biggest fan. Aside from the awkwardness of it being his ex, he also found himself in quite the down spot when he and Miranda met; the heartache over Gwen something he barely survived.

“I think we’re actually leaving soon.” Gavin speaks for them both, the look on Gwen’s face indicating that wasn’t planned.

“ _Uhm_ ….” His former lover stammers, faltering at her boyfriend’s sudden answer. “…. Yeah, we got a lot going on. Gearing up for tour and all.”

He silently applauds her for keeping her composure; keeping her disappointment visibly out of view. There’s a rush of adrenaline that courses through him at the realization he can still read her. She’s not hiding anything from him.

There’s a moment of awkward silence, none of the adults knowing what to say next. He clears his throat twice before turning to look at Miranda.

“Darlin’, what do ya say we excuse ourselves and go to that party now?”

She nods, leaning forward as she places a quick kiss to the corner of his lips. He doesn’t know if she did it intentionally to irk Gwen a bit, but the slight change of demeanour isn’t lost on him. He watches a sad smile form on his ex-lover’s lips and can’t help but address her.

“It was nice seeing you again, Gwen.”

She smiles a bit wider this time, her hand grabbing Gavin’s. “It was nice to see you too.”

He takes that as his cue to leave, the hand on Miranda’s back steering her away from both Gwen and Gavin, his heart beating out of control. It shouldn’t be this easy for him to lose his sanity over her, it shouldn’t be this damn out of his control.

“She seems…. nice.” Miranda says coldly.

There’s so much he could say to that, but the truth would cost him his girlfriend for sure, so he pushes down all the praises on the tip of his tongue, settling for the bare minimum.

He chuckles. “Yeah.”

His whole being seems to still be tuned into Gwen, the quick sighting of her in the corner of his eyes staggering his breathing. She appears to be excusing herself from Gavin, disappearing quickly into the Gala’s Bathroom.

He makes a decision then that he knows he’ll pay for later. He tugs at his girlfriend’s hand gently, slowing her down.

“Can you order us both a drink, I’ll be right back. Gotta use the bathroom.”

Luckily for him, she doesn’t think anything else of it, shrugging a bit carelessly.

“Sure.”

“Thank you.” He kisses her swiftly on the cheek, his heart nearly beating out of his chest when he walks towards the area he last saw Gwen disappearing to.

The spacious bathroom with endless marble fits perfectly with the whole vibe of the evening; expensive and over the top, good at making ‘important’ people feel even more important. His luck seems to be with him for once in his god damn life, because Gwen comes walking out just as he walks in, her eyes widening as she spots him. He motions with his hand for her to follow him, walking behind one of the larger pillars in the back, shielding them both from visitors.

She opens her mouth to speak, but Blake beats her to it.

“What the hell was that?”

He didn’t mean for the words to come out as sharp as they did, but the thumping of his heartbeat made his adrenaline spike like crazy, anger being the first emotion that seemed to wanna come out today.

She looks a bit taken aback, but holds her composure like he’d come to expect from her.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t do that.” He hisses. “You walking up to me while Miranda is there. While _he’s_ with you. Why the hell would you do that?”

She doesn’t answer right away and it’s the most unnerving thing in the world. The beats of silence rock forcibly into him and he can’t understand how she’s just standing there, calmly.

“I just wanted to say hi.” She says in defence to his words. “I already knew you’d spotted me; you wanted me to just ignore you?” She clears her throat, her voice a bit hoarse. “You were looking at me the whole time.”

“And I hate that I did.”

His anger feels like it’s settled in his throat and he’s unable to swallow it down. The feeling only grows more prominent in his stomach and its Gwen’s unfazed expression that makes his resolve slip out drastically.

“Yet, you wanted to get me alone?” She whispers in question, trying her best to appear nonchalant.

Again, her eyes are unwavering and relentless as she doesn’t break their gaze; the brunt of her attention taking up all the oxygen in the room, leaving him feeling smothered almost.

He knew she could see everything he couldn’t possibly admit.

“To tell you that you were out of line back there.”

“After nearly two years of not seeing or speaking to each other, that’s the first thing you want to tell me?”

His gaze falls onto her strapless black dress, the fabric ending right below her armpits. It’s impossible to look past her model-like figure, the dress fitting her like second skin. He swallows roughly, suddenly much more aware of who this person is and what she does to him.

“What I _want_ to tell you is that you look absolutely breath taking. What I _should_ tell you is that you were out of line.”

His answer surprises her visibly, her hand smoothing down the fabric on her stomach, her eyes no longer gazing into his.

“So you’re with Miranda.”

She looks up to find his shocked expression and he knows what she’s doing. A soft, knowing smirk has made its way onto her lips, yet he knows she’s the furthest thing from amused. He takes a while to answer, also realizing he’s literally standing here behind a marble pillar, in one of Los Angeles most famous parties and it’s almost too crazy to feel like his life.

“You’re back with Gavin.” He states.

“You said she was just someone you sang with.”

He nods. “She was. Back then.”

He knows he doesn’t owe her an explanation—she knows it too. Her eyes drop to the ground again, her demeanour growing more restless.

“I should get back.” She murmurs, staring everywhere but at him. “Gavin is walking around here somewhere.”

The ache in his chest at the mention of his name shouldn’t still be _this_ sharp, _this_ vivid.

“That didn’t stop you before.”

He knows somewhere in the back of his mind that this is ridiculous—they’re all adults, they should be able to run in to each other and say hi, even with their significant other’s present. Maybe it’s the rocky road him and Miranda have been on lately, or maybe it’s the fire Gwen ignites within him still, that makes it feel so forbidden. So wrong.

“Okay, what do you want from me right now?” She asks bewilderedly, her head shaking. “You want me to apologize? I’m sorry, Blake. I’m sorry for thinking I could walk up to my ex-boyfriend and say hi. It won’t happen again.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispers. The thought of never getting to see or talk to her again a beyond painful one. “You look beautiful.”

She laughs softly, caught between a sarcastic and broken sound.

“I can’t walk up to you in public but you can say these things to me in private?”

“I already said I was sorry, Gwen. I overreacted.”

Much like before, it turns into who can stare the longest. Her brown eyes hold so much truth and familiarity he can’t get himself to look away, not even when her eyes start begging him to. There’s so much water under their bridge, so much pain and love that’s etched into their beings forever. He knows it’s wrong to stand here with her like this, looking at everything he once had and then proceeded to give up.

“I’m not sorry.” She admits softly, biting her lip. “For walking up to you, I mean.”

He nods, not sure what to say to her confession.

“I missed you and it was good to see you again...” She continues, clearing her throat as her emotions become too evident. “…Even though I had to see you with _her_.”

His ears are ringing like she just yelled the admission, his lungs hurting with the effort to take in air.

“I hate that we don’t even talk anymore.” He says suddenly, the words feeling good to finally let out.

She smiles sadly. “You know we wouldn’t be able to keep it at _just_ talking.”

As if he’s trying to prove her point, Blake reaches out to push a strand of hair back behind her ear, his fingers brushing against her skin just a tad too long.

“Blake…” She speaks his name in warning, shaking her head.

He retracts his hand immediately, the involuntarily reflex working as a reminder to himself. He coughs a few times, his throat feeling painfully dry all the sudden.

“I don’t know why we can’t.” He almost whispers, surprised by the overwhelming surge of sadness that washes over him at the realization he hasn’t just lost her love, he’s lost her friendship.

“Cause we didn’t break up cause we hated each other. Which is a good thing.” She adds.

“Not good enough.” He speaks lowly. “It didn’t save our friendship.”

“But it saved my love for you. I love you.”

Tears spring to his eyes instantly—it’s been such a long time since he’s heard her confess her love for him, it almost feeling like an out of body experience now. He inhales deeply, knowing he needs to walk away while he still can.

“I need to go back. Miranda is waiting for me.”

He speaks her name as a reminder to both him and her, emphasizing the line they can’t cross, keeping that barrier between them at all costs. He watches her smile fade quickly, her expression hardening.

“Yeah of course.” She stammers, biting her lip as she looks away from him. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Blake.”

They both know he won’t, but he smiles and nods like he’s supposed to. He takes a final look at her; memorizing the way her dress hugs onto her like it’s made for her, the sad expression on her face a good representation of what he feels inside, resisting the urge to turn around and pull her against him.

Instead, he makes his way back to the party. There are so many people demanding attention and crowding his space when he finally meets Miranda again at the bar, but none of them are who he wants there.

The one person he wants around him right now, is the one he left standing alone in a bathroom hallway.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to whoever is still reading this. Work is getting really crazy, so it’ll be close to two weeks until I’m able to update again. After that, updates will come quicker ;)

_November, 2007_

 

Blake shakes his head dismissively, willing away all the dark thoughts that flash through his mind. Everyone around him is clueless about his inner turmoil, the few people who notice him showing up here by himself are too busy with themselves to care. He’s grateful for at least having been able to keep most of the mess out of the media; he doesn’t know how he would deal with the crumbling of his personal life while having to pick up the pieces with everyone else watching.

His life is nowhere near the same it was even a few weeks ago, opportunities keep lining up. In some ways, he’s been getting even more critical acclaim after having become one half of country music’s most beloved relationship. It hurts to know he’s here to negotiate and talk about award show slots and appearances for them both; yet, his girlfriend is not bothering to show up after their last big fight.

It’s becoming clear they’ll always find themselves there for some reason; the love he feels for her genuine, but not enough to navigate them through life smoothly.

She was younger than him. She was wild in many ways, but not the type of wildness that inspired or mesmerized him—it was the type of wild that would cause them both to crash and burn too many times to count. He used to think that their personalities would complement each other nicely, their similar upbringings and understanding of certain things making it easier to talk in the beginning. He could never foresee all the tragedy that would make it so hard for him to hold on to this love; the love that was supposed to be _it_ after everything else he went through.

After Gwen.

His meetings feel like a blur to him, the need for a drink high when he’s done. Being in Las Vegas gives him plenty of options, most ones probably not the smartest, considering where he’s at. He loves Miranda still, part of him doesn’t understand why he loves her so much, but he does. Maybe not in the way he knows he’s capable of loving, but he doesn’t want to do her wrong.

He finds himself walking past most places, not stopping until he reaches Planet Hollywood; he’s only been in Vegas once before, and made plans with his girlfriend to stay in a hotel here for a few nights—had she gone with him.

Now, his plans are to fly back tonight, but it doesn’t stop him from entering the premises.

One drink won’t hurt.

He navigates his way through the unfamiliar setting, smiling at a few people at the entrance. He’s starting to get used to being here alone—hell, maybe this is exactly what he needs. 

Unfortunately, his peace of mind is short lived.

He’s convinced his eyes are playing a trick on him first, his mouth drying up at the sight of her. Her long legs are covered in these damn fishnets he knows she likes so much, still making him as crazy as it did before. She’s wearing a black checkered mini dress, if you could even call it that; he recalls her wearing his t-shirts back in the day which would cover her up more than this thing she has on. She’s traded in the more tomboyish look he’s come to know of her for a more mature, overly feminine look. Her lips are bright red, and _damnit_ , he finds himself completely drawn to her again.

He hates himself a little when he walks over to where she’s sat at the bar, telling himself to turn around before it’s too late, but he’s not surprised to find himself doing the opposite. He takes a seat next to her, the noise of their surroundings making it possible for him to do so unseen, her attention not on him at all.

He gets another five seconds to look at her before her head turns to meet his gaze, her eyes widening as a certain spark makes its way there. There’s a moment where he forgets how to breathe, her pull still too strong for him to resist. Her finger starts nervously playing with the shot glass in front of her, downing it all at once before even muttering a word to him.

He watches the action silently, the image she makes for a completely new one.

“Tell me why we always meet like this.”

She cocks her head at him before ordering another drink, her lips curving into a small smile.

He clears his throat a few times, it feeling entirely too dry to talk. “I’m not sure.”

She gives him nothing else to work with after that, returning her gaze back to the glass in front of her, the slight tremble of her hands indicating that she’s been here a while. He’s never known her to hold her liquor too well, only this time he’s in no place to comment on it. He gives her another sweet smile when she looks his way again, only for it to last less than a second.

“Are we celebrating something?” Blake asks then, motioning to the bartender for a shot of his own. He watches the way she forces her lips up in a grin, her tongue pushing past her teeth the next moment.

“The end of another tour.” She shoots back quickly, the sound of her palm hitting the bar as she goes for another round sounding wrong to his ears. “The end of a relationship.”

Understanding settles over his features, his gaze lowering downwards. He didn’t mean to assume, but he feels like he’s only ever found her drinking like this when it regarded that shitface she calls a boyfriend sometimes.

He takes a while to formulate his next words, not wanting to piss off an already emotional—and drunk—Gwen.

“I thought you guys were doing good now.”

“We’re never good, you know that.” She makes an effort to hold his gaze for a bit longer this time, shaking her head. “I don’t need your fake sympathy, Blake. I know you hate him.”

Her voice sounds rough and by the look on her face she’s running low on patience; he manages to identify it as emotions towards her ex rather than they’re meant for him. If it were anyone but her, he’d say he ran into her at the wrong time, but with Gwen it never is. He can’t ever imagine a time where running into her wouldn’t be what he wanted.

“I would say I’m sorry to hear that, but it sounds like you’d rather do without that.”

Gwen nods once. “You’re right.”

Without meaning to, his hand reaches out for her bare arm, tracing along some of the goosebumps that cover her skin. She doesn’t pay him any mind, just downs another shot before scrunching her nose.

“Gwen, I’m gonna ask you something and I’ll only ask it once tonight, if you promise to answer truthfully.”

She chuckles, a low sound in the back of her throat. Her face turns to meet his eyes, amusement colouring her features.

“Sure.” She waves her hand between them, giving him the green light. “I promise.”

“Are you okay?”

She looks two shades paler after the question leaves his lips, her eyes becoming darker as she lets his words settle over her. He almost regrets asking the question, but remembers his promise to her; to always be honest, to always care.

“I’m not, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

Her voice sounds steady, despite the change in demeanour. She orders a glass of dry martini, a step up from the hellish shots she’s been taking back to back since he’s sat down with her.

He wonders what her tab must look like at this point.

“You’re just gonna drink it away?”

The words are weird to speak to her, the parallel between the picture she makes in front of him not much different from the one he encounters back home. It made it so he couldn’t help himself, the question out of his mouth before he can stop it. She shuts it down quickly though.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it— _any_ of it.”

“But— “

“—or I can leave?” She threatens, picking up her glass as if she’s about to go elsewhere.

He throws his hands up in surrender, indicating he’ll drop it; not ready to give up his time with her just yet. He’s got no clue when the next time will be, or if there will even be one.

Deciding to lead them into smoother waters, he changes the subject completely.

“How was tour?”

The mention of tour has her eyes sparkling again in a different way, apparently not drunk enough to forget the liberating feeling of being on stage. She smiles at him gratefully before settling back into the barstool.

“It was everything I needed.” She confesses quietly, the glass against her lips muffling the first few words of her next sentence. “……It makes all the difference, you know? Being out there, receiving all that love from everyone who’s been buying my records.”

He nods in recognition. “It’s magical.”

“But seriously!” She continues, her smile a steadier thing now. “No matter what you’ve got going on personally, those two hours you spent with them are free from all of it. It’s just me, the music and them.”

He’s missed talking to her like this. He’s missed her passionate ramblings about music and writing—and _him_. He’s missed coming home to positivity, someone who seemed happy to see him most of the time, not counting the last few times before they parted ways.

“Are you sad it’s over?”

He promised her he wouldn’t talk about everything that was bothering her, but it felt like a natural follow-up question. Her eyes scan over him for a second, probably contemplating the same thing before throwing caution to the wind.

“Sad that the only good thing in my life has ran its course?” She looks at him knowingly, lifting the glass towards him like you’d do in a toast. “Sure am.”

Blake takes his time looking at her then, ignoring her discomfort when she breaks his gaze and fidgets underneath his scrutiny. He knows her too well for this to be anything less than painful; her presence lacking all the usual energy he’s known from her.

“Is there anything I can do?” He hears himself speaking the words, thinking better of it the moment they’ve escaped his lips.

She slides her now empty drink towards him, nodding to the bar in front of them.

“You can buy me another one.” She slurs.

He looks at her sympathetically, carefully sliding it back to her.

“Any other time I would, you know that.” He responds softly, his eyes never leaving her frame. “It might not be my place to say, but don’t you think you’re better off calling it a night?”

Her eyes widen, offense flashing before them instantly. She makes a move to stand, her hands grabbing the back of the stool tightly to keep her balance.

“You’re right.” She spits at him, shaking her head. “It’s _not_ your place to say.”

He should probably leave, having enough problems as it is without taking on hers, but he will never be able to leave her hanging—not even when she deserves it.

“Gwen, you’re hammered.”

“ _’M not_.” She retorts weakly, still not making a move to walk away. He figures she needs more time to steady herself on her feet, having underestimated how far gone she actually is.

“Where are you staying?” He ignores her protest, getting up now too.

He motions for the bartender that he’s closing his tab, simultaneously closing hers too. She’s too busy with herself to notice, her protest not coming until he’s flashing his credit card.

“Blake, don’t— “

He waves his hand, not interested in hearing her protest. “I’ve got it.”

She hangs her hand a bit defeated, straightening her back. She stumbles a little, her hand involuntarily reaching out for Blake’s. He’s there instantly, despite his growing frustrations; wanting to be there for her not coming easy this time. His face constricts into something less than pleased when she tries a few times to take some steps without linking their arms, tripping back into him in no time.

“For the love of God, stop being so damn stubborn, Gwen.”

She huffs in annoyance, and it’s ironic to him really, that _she’s_ the one getting upset.

He uses his free hand to push the door open, leading them out of the luxurious lounge. He’s struck once again by the luxury of this place, only being snapped out of it by Gwen’s stumbling.

“I didn’t even drink this much.” She whines in confusion, both hands holding onto his arm now.

“Gwen, you’ve been drinking non-stop since I’ve spotted you here.” He replies factually. “And it didn’t look like you just got started either.”

He’s the last one who’s in a position to judge, but he knows Gwen well enough to know she’s not the type of person to handle alcohol therapy well; her small frame not built for the amount she consumed tonight.

“Can you…. Can you walk me to my hotel?” She stammers, her gaze lowering in a hint of embarrassment.

“I wasn’t planning on leaving you alone right now, that’s for sure.”

She smiles at him gratefully, wincing right after as the movement of her face already did enough to enhance the beginning of a horrible headache.

“Are you staying here?” He asks, getting her attention again. “Planet Hollywood?”

She nods in recognition, her hands going into her purse less than elegantly, pulling out the key card with the initials “PH” on them. “Room 132.”

Relieved to know they won’t have to walk far with Gwen this gone, he moves them forward again, praying that the place is too crowded for them to be spotted together again. The property is much too big for his liking, the fancy exterior and rich crowd doing nothing to make it more appealing to him. Gwen doesn’t even seem to notice, her arm still linked with his as she focuses on not tripping over her own damn feet.

He knows he’s got to thread carefully here, not in a position to be seen with her, let alone let himself get sucked back into what he knows will always be there.

He’s in a relationship this time—though it being on the rocks, there are boundaries now.

The elevator is big enough to hold close to twenty people, now only used by two as they’re the only ones going up. His gaze follows all of Gwen’s movements, her unsteadiness getting emphasised when the lift sets in motion. Her frame leans into him a bit more prominently now. He wonders if she’s as affected by it as he is.

He needs to get it together, and fast.

“I hope you don’t have anything to do tomorrow, cause this hangover is going to be a real pain in the ass.”

He decides to divert his attention to the one thing that’s safe. Her head moves up to meet his eyes, her lips a straight line on her face this time.

“I don’t.” She replies quickly, looking straight ahead again, lurching forward as soon as the doors open. He follows immediately, his hand on a safe height on her back.

“So why are you here?” He asks, his curiosity peaked.

“To celebrate the end of tour. I told you this.”

“Alone? No friends? No team?”

He makes sure not to mention her boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend.

“Just me.” She snaps irritated, her eyes scanning each door until she finds her own. The key card in her hands dropping to the floor as she tries to put it to use.

“Let me.” Blake interrupts, bending down to pick up the key from the floor, holding it in front of her door, waiting for the small light to turn green and the door to open with a quiet buzz. She smiles at him in thanks, not using her words and she doesn’t have to.

He stands a bit awkwardly at the door, not moving an inch.

“You can come in.” She says pointedly, not giving it much more thought. Despite his brain telling him he shouldn’t, his legs carry him all the way inside, the door closing behind them with a distinctive sound.

The room is large, much like everything else here. It doesn’t look like she’s spent much time in the suite, her suitcases untouched and unpacked and a ‘welcome to Planet Hollywood’ card placed on the white Queen-size, obviously not having slept in there yet.

“You arrived here tonight?”

She hums, her back turned to him as she takes off these damn uncomfortable looking—yet smoking hot—heels she likes to wear.

“Just dropped off my stuff here and went to get myself a drink.”

He nods. “Your last show was here?”

“Technically LA.” She says, her palm laying across her forehead, rubbing at the headache as if it will make it disappear that way. “We added one more show here, so now I’m done. Officially.”

“Where was your show?”

“Pearl Concert Theatre.”

They’re silent for a few long minutes, Blake’s eyes still on Gwen as she’s taken a seat on the edge of the freshly made bed. He keeps a safe distance, his back leaning against the opposite wall, his heart hurting for this beautiful girl who shouldn’t know half the heartbreak she’s gone through.

“Why are _you_ here?” She whispers suddenly, her finger digging into the duvet beneath her.

“They’re hosting the ACM’s here at MGM. I was here for some negotiations and decided to come down to Planet Hollywood—see what all the fuss was about.”

Her eyebrows raise, a familiar sparkle in her eyes. “Big things coming, huh?”

He smiles softly, cocking his head. “Who knows.”

“Where are you staying?”

“I’m not.” He answers quickly. “I’m flying back home tonight.”

“You’re here alone.” She states, not asking.

He nods his head painfully, his head leaning against the wall behind him. He’s felt the tension in his bones from the moment the plane landed here without his girlfriend, the way some of that eases so naturally in Gwen’s presence making everything ten times worse.

He’s too deep in thought to notice the way Gwen stands up and makes her way over to where he stands. He wouldn’t even be able to stretch out his arm between them, as she stands all too close. His breathing becomes more irregular, his much taller frame towering over her as she stands before him.

“Thank you for making sure I got to my room okay.”

He feels a small twitch at his lips as he tries not to smile, everything suddenly feeling like it’s off limits. His whole body deciding not to work with him as he somewhat freezes underneath her unwavering attention.

“Of course.” He chokes out, nodding.

The hand sliding up his stomach and chest has his head spinning before he can truly recognize what’s happening. Her buzzed frame makes things like balance much harder to obtain, causing her to almost fall into him when she leans in. She surprises him when her lips brush against his chin, his heart hammering at the press of her lips there, the tentative sweeping of her tongue along his skin sending shivers down his spine.

"Damnit Gwen, _shit_.." He gasps, trying to voice his protest as things escalate too quickly for his mind to catch up. It's not until she moves to the corner of his mouth, pressing her nose to his cheek, that he finally regains some of his sanity. "Darlin' stop."

He uses his arm to create some distance between them, the hand on the back of her neck preventing her from leaning in again. The look in her eyes makes him hate himself, but not nearly as much as he’d hate himself if he let her go on.

“Gwen, I can’t…” He whispers regretfully, his eyes closing. “…. Miranda.”

Her hands slide back to his chest, gripping his t-shirt between her first.

“I thought you guys had….” She shakes her head, her brain seemingly not catching up quite yet. “You’re here alone.”

He shakes his head, swallowing roughly. “We’re not broken up.”

Blake suddenly becomes hyper-aware of every touch. The way her fingers linger against his clothed chest and her body so close to him, he could have her fully pressed against him with one firm push of his hand. She lets go of his shirt only to make its way up to the side of his face, her acrylic nail grazing against the slight stubble there.

“ _Gwen_ ….” He warns softly, though he’s not pulling away from her touch.

“You’re a good man.” She ignores his little outburst, her eyes watering. “I’ve always known that.”

Her finger slides from his chin up to his lips, her touches mimicking what she wishes she could be doing with her mouth.

“Gwen, you’re drunk.”

“Stop trying to use that as an excuse to discredit what I’m saying.”

He closes his eyes again, incapable of having her this close and hearing those words. He finally does what he should’ve done the moment she walked over to him. He grabs her hand gently, carefully forcing her to take a few steps backwards. The much-needed distance between their bodies feeling both liberating and devastating.

His hand rubs over his mouth and chin, reminding him of what her hand had been doing only a few seconds ago.

When he finally looks back over to her, she’s still standing where he left her—still looking at him with that damn look in her eyes he’s never been too good at resisting. He's reminded of who this woman is exactly; the one who stole his breath away at a bar five years ago, the one who called him on his bullshit and showed him a thousand different dimensions within one world, the woman who opened his eyes and pried at the walls around his heart, the one who made his fingers buzz with the urge to write again.

“I should go.” Blake murmurs, his brain feeling like it’s being turned to mush. 

She nods, her hand moving to her mouth as she gently gnaws at her knuckles. 

“That’s probably a good idea.”

He hates how his feet feel like there are bricks tied to his ankles when he moves towards the door. He’s always prided himself for being a loyal guy, a loyal boyfriend, but nothing about his heart is loyal in this moment; the need and want he feels for the one person he leaves standing empty-handed is almost too much to deal with.

Despite of being afraid of what he might do if he looks at her again, he glances at her before leaving the hotel room. She smiles sadly, a stray tear having made its way down her cheek. He wants nothing more but to go back in there and wipe it from her pretty face, but he lowers his head instead.

“Blake….” Gwen calls after him hesitantly.

He sighs deeply, keeping his gaze away from her. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

He’s hit with the many things she could be apologizing for, just like his apology in return could have a million different meanings. He loves her. He’s hit by the overwhelming urge to tell her—to show her—and that’s exactly why he doesn’t. His feelings feel woven tightly into something intangible; something he needs to keep away from her, for it would only hurt them.

Her throat works through a swallow, eliciting a wince that ripples across her face. He wants nothing more but to reach out for her and brush her hair back behind her ears with gentle fingers, feeling the way her soft breath heats up the skin on his wrist, but he knows that now is the time to remain strong. 

“I’ll see you around, Gwen.”

He knows that somewhere, somehow, he will.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for some angst, ladies and gents. I promise this is needed for the course of this story, but don’t worry— all this sexual tension must explode some time and it just might happen in the next two chapters ;)

_August_ , _2008_

 

A loud buzzing had rung through the silence, making both his and Miranda’s head snap up towards the device. He silently curses whoever it is, having finally found a moment of peace. His girlfriend’s attention is quickly lost and diverted back to the television in front of them, ignoring when Blake reaches for his phone and presses in the password.

Things have been relatively good in his relationship lately—the lack of time spent together something that might have something to do with it. Both are getting undeniably busier, which is a confronting parallel with his previous relationship, only this time he doesn’t mind the distance so much. He and Miranda have a weird and unique thing going on, but up until now it’s proven to work. Too much time together usually results in arguments, no matter how hard Blake tries to avoid them.

He takes another look at his phone, the text that had just came in making him tense up. He’s for once glad that his girlfriend isn’t much into cuddling, because there’s no way he could’ve disguised his obvious reaction to _her_ number on his screen.

He hasn’t spoken to Gwen much since their last meeting in Vegas; he got a text from her a few days later apologizing for how she crossed a line—but that’s about it. He tried to ignore how much it had hurt when she explained she was drunk and made a mistake. The referring to what _almost_ happened, in that way, shouldn’t have made him feel the way it did—so unimportant.

He swallows those bitter thoughts away, letting his eyes focus on the text long enough to make out the words. Despite not doing anything wrong necessarily, he can’t help but glance over to his right, a wave of relief washing over him at the realization that Miranda is still more interested in what’s happening on the big screen than she is in him.

He blinks a few times, making sure that he’s reading this text right. Aside from that night, nothing remotely inappropriate had happened between him and Gwen while they found themselves in separate relationships again, but reading her words now feels like dangerous territory, something he shouldn’t be entertaining.

 _Hi_ _Blake_ , _you_ _don’t_ _have_ _to_ _respond_ _to_ _this_ , _I_ _would_ _completely_ _understand_ _if_ _you_ _didn’t_. _I_ _just_ _wanted_ _to_ _let_ _you_ _know_ _Adrian’s_ _bday_ _is_ _in_ _two_ _weeks_ , _he_ _wanted_ _me_ _to_ _ask_ _you_ _if_ _you_ _wanted_ _to_ _come_. _I_ _may_ _have_ _put_ _in_ a _tiny_ request, _not_ _wanting_ _your_ last _memory_ _of_ _me_ _to_ _be_ the _one_ _you_ _currently_ _have ;_ ) – _G_

There’s no way he’s going to be able to sell this one to his girlfriend, and he finds it hard to blame her for it. He knows he’s been struggling with losing Gwen’s friendship along with everything else, but now she’s actively trying to pursue one, he’s not sure if he’s capable of having it.

He tosses the phone aside, rubbing his hand over his eyes.

He goes over his options in his head, his body becoming restless. Miranda takes notice after a few minutes, her eyes squinting like she’s trying desperately to figure him out.

“Bad news?” She asks half-heartedly, her curiosity genuine as she nods towards the phone.

He grunts a bit, sliding his hand further down the head of the couch. “Not necessarily.”

“Who was it?”

There’s no way he’s getting out of this one and he’s not quite sure he wants to. Part of him feels good about finally let it out, to gauge her reaction and see for himself if Gwen texting him was as out of line as he perceived it to be.

His answer is short and to the point.

“Gwen.”

His girlfriend lets out an audible sigh, her lips pursing as she holds his gaze the entire time. There’s a slick smile forming on his lover’s lips and he’s getting beyond unnerved, the whole thing uncomfortable.

“What does she want?”

Blake shakes his head. “She invited me to her bandmate’s birthday party.”

Miranda runs a hand through her hair, before falling back into her usual nonchalant attitude. “Did you guys start talking again?”

He didn’t expect to be met with such calmness from her, his body still tense from the possibility of an escalation.

“No. I mean, I saw her in Vegas. I told you that.”

“That was the last time you two spoke?”

“She texted me once afterwards.”

If you’d told him a few years ago he’d be having this conversation in regards to Gwen, he would’ve laughed straight in your face—that realization a bitter pill to swallow. Having her barely in his life anymore is weird, but having her one foot in might be even weirder. His current girlfriend’s stare doesn’t do much to ease the awkwardness either.

“Why?” She asks slowly, the annoyance starting to creep into her voice.

He knows where this is going and desperately wants to steer the conversation in a different direction.

“I don’t know, Ran.” He breathes, bracing himself for the release of his next words. “She felt bad for how far gone she was that night and wanted to apologize, I guess.”

“She barely talks to you for three years and now she suddenly wants you at one of her bandmate’s birthday party?”

He realizes as she speaks the words back to him how ridiculous it sounds, unable to come up with a worthy response.

“You’re right.” Blake concludes, his heart constricting painfully when he does. “I’ll just text her no, it’s not like she’ll be broken up about it.”

The words have barely left his mouth when he registers his mistake, closing his eyes as he waits for the inevitable follow-up question.

“What if she would be?” Miranda asks calmly. “Broken up about it?”

Blake shrugs. “It wouldn’t change anything. It would still be a no.”

He hopes the words came out convincingly enough, his mind telling him it would’ve been the right thing to do, but his heart still having a hard time denying Gwen.

“Do you want to go, Blake?”

He closes his eyes hard, pushing his tongue against the back of his teeth. “ _Ran_ …”

“Don’t Ran me.” She spats. “Just answer the damn question.”

He opens his eyes quickly, shifting closer to her on the couch and using his arms to hold her in place when she moves to shift away from him.

“It’s hard being part of someone’s life and then just being completely cut off from it. I don’t hate the thought of getting to see some of them again, but I’m with you now. If you don’t want me to go, I won’t. It’s that simple.”

He shoots her a gracious smile, his arm still working to keep her in place. Though she does not look too impressed, the venom has disappeared from her words when she speaks again.

“When is this birthday party?”

Blake swallows roughly. “In two weeks.”

Miranda nods. “I’ve got shows then.”

“So I’ll stay here. Go with you.”

She shakes her head, her fingers touching his arm hesitantly, any affection that’s initiated from her feeling more like a whisper of touch—something she has to force herself to do.

“I think you should go.” She retracts her hand from his arm, looking away from him. “I usually don’t have much time to see you when I’m doing shows anyways, plus we always seem to frustrate each other on the road.”

He can’t pretend like her words don’t hurt, but he’s gotten used to her extreme moments of detachment and hyper independence. He sighs heavily, tipping his head back as his eyes stare unfocused at the ceiling.

“Are you sure?”

She hums, sticking to her original point.

“Who knows, maybe this can even suffice as your closure. Getting to see her one last time before you just totally let it go. All of it.”

He knows this conversation could’ve gone way worse, but something about the words she spoke still make his heart sink. He’s given up on the idea of a relationship with Gwen, not wanting to live in a fantasy world while letting the real one pass by.

Yet, the thought of letting her go completely leaves him with a beyond sour taste in his mouth.

“Maybe.” Blake forces out.

She takes back her space on the couch, stretching out just enough to force him to move back a little and he takes the hint.

With one last intake of breath, he lets his hand wander towards his phone, not stopping until he’s got his phone unlocked and his fingers slowly typing a message back. His finger hovers above the send button for a while, his gaze falling back onto his girlfriend who’s turned her focus back towards the television, unaware or disinterested in his inner conflict.

He’s told her about running into Gwen in Vegas, and how he helped her back to her hotel room since she was too drunk to walk in a straight line. He left out the part where she came on to him; not because he wanted to lie to her, but because it would escalate into something that just wouldn’t have been worth it. He knew Gwen was drunk and he knows something like that would never happen again.

He shakes his head to force the lingering guilt and confusion out of his mind, using the lack of care from Miranda to guide his hand into sending the text.

 _Will_ _Gavin_ _be_ _there_? – _B_

He typed the message in a million variations, different sentences, countless taps of his thumb to the ‘delete’ button, but he settles for the straightforward version nonetheless. He wishes he could do without that piece of information, but he doesn’t think he can force himself to go if it means having to watch them together all night.

After a few minutes, he realizes he most likely won’t get an answer—and he thinks somewhere deep down, he’s okay with that.

The phone remains silent as he forces his gaze away from the screen and towards the TV. That’s until his phone buzzes in his hand two minutes later.

 _He_ _won’t_ _be_ _able_ to _make_ _it_. – _G_

His heart skips dangerously so at that particular message; for no other reason than having been given a fair chance to see her again, even when it’s just as friends. He remembers his girlfriend’s earlier words, encouraging him to go for reasons that still feel a bit unclear to him, but for the time being, will suffice as enough.

 _Text_ _me_ _the_ _time_ _and_ _place_. – _B_

 

*

It turns out to be that kind of club—and he’s been around them in the past long enough to not be surprised. There are secluded booths for privacy and he’s lucky enough to find out many find it nice to hang out there. He’s not particularly mad at his whereabouts this time, the place handing out vodka and expensive bourbon all night, and that’s the most he can ask for. It’s been weird seeing all these people again and he didn’t expect for her band to welcome him back the way they had. He’s spent about thirty minute in conversation with Adrian before he got swept away by other partygoers. He was left cradling his glass of vodka tonic before his eyes fell on the one person he’d been trying to avoid for a while, not sure how he’d handle seeing her again—the thought of seeing her had been too nerve wrecking ever since he’d landed at LAX.

The numerous booths they have reserved for everyone are all pretty much getting used, the ones who didn’t dance and didn’t necessarily belong, had already found their way onto the obnoxious looking leather seats. He’s gotten so much partying in during his late teens, early twenties, he almost feels like his time has already passed when it comes to that now. He still likes hanging out with his buddies and getting way past the point of drunk, and when he finds his ex-lover smiling at him before approaching, he thinks he could use some more liquor.

The alcohol goes down nicely in the dim darkness, everyone distracted by the loud music and many guest. He finds exactly zero eyes on him and Gwen when she finally joins him by his side.

He looks at her smaller frame, her high heels making it so that she’s at shoulder length, her black dress hugging her in all the right places while her hair flows perfectly down her shoulders. He swallows roughly at the sight she makes for, willing down every inappropriate thought that enters his mind.

Her lips covered in that damn perfect red shade curve up slightly, her head cocking to the side while she looks at him.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

He turns so he can look her straight in the eye, his arm stretching out as his hand motions for her to come closer.

“I’m sorry.” He says just loud enough to be heard over the music, his apology also working as a silent admission—he _had_ been avoiding her.

She moves quickly, the glass cradled between her own fingers pressing into his chest as she lets herself get swallowed by his embrace.

He holds her there for a few moments, having missed the way she felt in his arms. They both seem to forget they’re in public as they have each other in literal arms-reach again. His chin rests on the top of her head, her free hand sliding across his waist. He knows they’re way past the point of being appropriate, the hug should’ve been ended by either one at least twenty seconds ago. When Blake clears his throat, and retracts his arm from around her, she steps back too.

She looks at the ground before back at him, her lips curved into a tiny smile.

“It’s good to see you again.”

He nods, the feeling entirely mutual. “Thank you for inviting me. I know it was really your doing.”

She smiles wider now. “He was excited about the idea. He just never would’ve brought it up himself, considering…well….”

He nods again, not needing her to explain any further. It’s a weird thing they’ve got going on now, he doesn’t blame everyone else for not understanding how to thread when it comes to them.

He doesn’t even know how to deal with the fragile remains of their love.

“You look great.” She comments shyly, her eyes roaming just a tad too long over his body.

Blake’s eyebrow raises almost into his hairline, a smug smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. He tries not to let her words settle for too long, God knows he’s struggling enough.

“I guess it is a bit of an improvement from the fat SOB you’re used to seeing me as.”

His humour comes out to try and compensate the intensity of her words, his self-depreciating tendencies allowing him to ease some of the awkwardness he feels at her compliment.

“Stop it.” She almost hisses, taking a step closer to him again to smooth a hand down his button-up. “You were never fat and you always looked great. You just look even better now, more mature…. more sophisticated.”

He wants to laugh right in her face, the word sophisticated the furthest thing removed from who he is, but there’s also an overwhelming sense of sadness that washes over him—knowing he never hears those words from his current girlfriend.

“Thank you.” He croaks, looking down at her hand still placed on his chest.

She retracts it immediately, but the damage is already done.

He feels dizzy all the sudden, his heart beating so fast he’s scared he might actually fall to the ground in a few seconds. He looks up at her to see the same kind of sadness pooling in her eyes, her mouth parted as she tries to come up with anything to say, but he beats her to it.

“Congratulations.” He forces out the words with utter discomfort, his breathing feeling ragged and uneven. He knows he has no right to get upset with her, but witnessing the huge silver rock sitting prettily on her ring finger, makes him want to run out of there and never look back.

He knows she can read everything he’s not saying to her in person and he’s not surprised to hear her point it out.

“I wanted to tell you before, I just didn’t know...” She shakes her head, the words dying on her tongue. “You don’t have to congratulate me; I know you think it’s wrong.”

He shakes his head, his vocabulary failing him greatly.

“I—” He starts off saying before cutting himself off, knowing she’s right and there’s really nothing left for him to say. “I don’t know how to respond to that.”

He watches Gwen struggle to formulate words in front of him, before witnessing her pulling it together in that way she always does.

“Come outside with me.” She leans into his space again, ignoring when he makes a sound in protest. “I’m not asking you anything other than to stand outside with me for a bit, getting to talk without all this noise and people around.”

He doesn’t think there’s anything left for him to say, the thought of the love of his life officially moving into that next chapter with someone else, enough to render him completely speechless. There were many times where the thought of engagement and marriage popped up into his head during his relationship with Gwen, the stars just never quite aligning for that to become a possibly. He’s given up on the hopes of that happening now, but he always hoped that once Gwen would take that next step, it would be with someone other than Gavin.

Someone who made her genuinely happy—happier than he ever could.

Despite his objections, he caves in and follows her out, taking a large sip of his drink while letting his back lean against the wall outside. They manage at getting quite some privacy here, the back entrance pretty much vacated if you don’t count the two of them.

Gwen rubs at the back of her neck, using her other hand to get her hair flowing over one shoulder. He keeps his eyes off her for the time being; that damn dress and those damn lips doing everything in their power to get him to his knees.

“I don’t ever want to hurt you, Blake.” She starts off softly, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip.

“You didn’t owe me an explanation. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He means the words but they sound less than convincing to his own ears. He takes another sip of his drink, letting the breeze of the night air hit his face in earnest. If there’s one thing he _did_ miss about LA, it’s the gentle weather where even the slight wind feels like a caress on most days.

Gwen nods as she lets her own back lean against the wall right next to Blake’s body, just barely avoiding their shoulders from touching.

“Did you have to drop a lot of things in order to come here today?” She asks, changing the subject much to his delight.

He shakes his head. “I have a few shows and interviews lined up next week.”

Gwen turns to him suddenly, her lips portraying a proud smile. “I heard you on the radio last week!”

The excitement in her voice makes him grin, before his eyebrows curve inward for a moment of confusion; he knows for damn sure Gwen doesn’t drive around in her car with the country station on.

She takes notice of his confusion and answers it precisely. “I changed the station cause I wanted to see if they’d play you.”

By the way she’s speaking to him he’s sure she doesn’t realize the magnitude of her words, but Blake feels it everywhere.

He swallows roughly, trying to get some words to come out.

“And they did?”

She nods fiercely. “They played one of your songs and then went on to talk about how you got your fifth number one hit with that one!”

“She Wouldn’t Be Gone.” Blake speaks softly, his throat feeling hoarse, raw. “I can’t believe you listened to the whole thing.”

“What are you talking about?” She shakes her head immediately, reaching out to touch his wrist and doesn’t seem phased by his obvious hesitant reaction. “Country music might not be my forte, but you know I’ve always loved your music.”

“You never even heard of my music.” He replies playfully, some of the tension finally falling off his body.

She cocks her head, pretending to be annoyed, yet her voice debunks that easily. “How many times are you gonna hold that against me, huh?”

Blake shrugs. “I don’t know. Until it stops being fun.”

Gwen finally retreats her hand from his arm and it’s almost like the tension he lost becomes hers, her head gently falling back against the wall behind her.

“I wish talking to you wasn’t this nice—this easy.” She admits quietly, her hand raking through her hair once.

“I wish we did it more often.” He retorts.

“We’ve tried.”

Blake snorts, shaking his head. “Have we, now?”

“I’m getting married.” She whispers like a warning, like an explanation, he’s not sure.

“You’re not married yet.” Blake states softly, his gaze on her side profile.

She shifts a bit uncomfortably underneath his stare. “I’m going to be.”

“He’s not good for you.”

Despite the comment being out of line—her not being his concern anymore—he can’t refrain himself from saying what’s weighing so heavy on his heart. Someone like her should never have to settle for someone who’s chosen others over her so many times before.

“You don’t think _anyone’s_ good for me.” She counters. Her gaze is directed at the view in front of her, not shifting her eyes towards him even once.

He leans in a little bit closer, knowing she must be able to feel his breath on her ear as she continues to refuse eye contact.

“No, this…. this is different. Has he ever made you feel like a million bucks? Aside from when he shoved that huge rock on your gorgeous hand.”

She chokes on a breath, her eyes widening.

“We shouldn’t be talking about this.” She sighs, smoothing her hands down that torturous black dress of hers that’s still clinging to her hips in the best of ways. “I should head back inside; I can’t stay too long anyways.”

“Hey, are you listening to me?” He interrupts, his voice a bit more perturbed.

Finally, she turns to look at him, her eyes dark and dangerous.

“Honestly? I’m trying _not_ to. Gavin and I have been working on things and I’m going to marry him. I’d really wish you could just be happy for me.”

“I want you to be happy, Gwen.” He retorts immediately, his eyes pleading with her to hear him out. “That’s exactly why I’m saying these things.”

Her eyes become incredibly narrow, her tongue poking against the inside of her cheek.

“Why do you even care?” She snaps. “You’re in a relationship, you’re good. What I do in my personal life is none of your business anymore.”

He tries to hold back the bitterness he feels at the mention of Miranda, refraining himself from saying where they really stand at the moment.

“It’s not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to try and stop you from making a mistake.”

She leans back into his space, shaking her heads as she whispers to him.

“You’re a jerk. Marrying him is not a mistake, but me thinking you could be nice about it obviously was.”

Blake pulls back semi offended, but mostly hopeless.

She’s right, it’s not his business anymore, and he should let it go. Yet, he’s never been good at letting her go; not saying anything would go against his nature in every way possible.

“I want you to be happy.” He repeats, fumbling with the sleeves of his clean black shirt.

“Then _be_ happy for me.” Her eyes bore into his, her arms crossing over her chest. 

The way she’s presenting herself to him right now, with all that fake confidence and frustration has him lowering his gaze.

Underneath the façade she tries desperately to keep up, he still sees the woman he knows so well; the girl who’s been on his mind for the last five years, those eyes that made him feel so familiar and at home, that mouth he’d known so intimately once upon a time.

“Why do you want him so badly?” He asks instead of dropping it like he should have. “What is it about him you just can’t let go?”

She bites her lip painfully hard, her sigh loud to his ears. “You’re impossible.”

“Why do you settle for him?”

“He _wants_ me, Blake.” Her dry voice croaks out. “He hasn’t left me, and when he did, he always came back. He. never. left. me.”

 _Not_ _like_ _you_ _have_.

Both her spoken and unspoken words hurt him to the core—the regret of asking that question settling uncomfortably in his chest. He closes his eyes momentarily, needing a break from her vulnerable expression directed at him.

He opens his eyes a few seconds later, his hand reaching out for her hand. She shakes her head but his hand slides over to where the obnoxiously large ring sits on her finger.

“He’s stupid enough to treat you wrong, but smart enough to never let you go.” Blake muses, his finger applying pressure on the diamond, making her gasp.

“ _Blake_.”

“Don’t let him steal more from you than he already has.”

She pulls her hand out of his hold, swallowing loudly. “He can’t steal something from me that’s not even there anymore.”

Blake huffs. “I hate him.”

She nods softly, a bit defeated. “I know.”

“Are you happy?” Blake asks pointedly, his body turned into her, his hands in his pockets to keep them from reaching out for her again.

“I’ve always wanted to get married. I want a big family, a love to call my own.” She smiles softly, her eyes glistening as she lists her most personal dreams. “You know this, I’ve told you plenty of times.”

He nods. “You deserve all of that.”

“He wants those things too.” She breathes. “He told me that! He was just scared before, but it’s what he wants.”

Her words feel like poison going down his veins, the sour taste in his mouth and throat nearly overwhelming him. It’s the first time he’s ever actively rooted for the guy not to mess up; no one deserving the love she’s describing more than Gwen does.

“I hope you get everything you want, Gwen. I mean that.”

She tilts her head slightly. “Thank you.”

He smiles despite feeling his heart aching. “Any time.”

She breathes in deeply, finally making a move to leave.

“We should head back inside.”

“Yeah.” He responds a bit awkwardly, scratching behind his ear. “Sure.”

He watches her go back to socializing like nothing happened, like they didn’t just discuss what they did, but in a few rare moments she acknowledges him with a sad smile, letting him know she’s not totally sweeping it under the rug.

He knows he should be doing the same thing though—there’s nothing he can do to stop her from going after what she’s always wanted in the first place.

After an hour or so, he finds Adrian and once again thanks him for the hospitality and invite, smiling when the guy admits he’s missed him, before announcing he’s going to call it a night. He always thought of himself as the weird one out when he was still with Gwen and interacting with her circle, but he can’t deny the shift that happened after a while, her friends—especially her band—becoming an important part of his life too.

There’s entirely too much he’s been forced to leave behind. There’s too many ‘almost’ that haunt him now.

He motions with his hand towards Gwen, motioning for her to come over and she does so rather quickly. It seems like his departure doesn’t come like a big surprise, her arms once again surrounding his waist as she presses herself against him for a hug. This time they don’t linger longer than appropriate, the tears pooling in her eyes exactly the ones he feels inside.

He smiles at her gently, as if to tell her it’s alright, that he _is_ happy for her, that she has no reason to feel guilty whatsoever.

He almost believes it too.


	15. Chapter 15

_August, 2010_  
   
   
The house is empty like he expected it to be, no sign of his girlfriend anywhere, and it has been like this for the past month. He’d spent most of it sincerely miserable, moping around his place, indulging himself in work and new projects but failing at any real productiveness.  
   
He gave up on trying to contact her after he managed to fill her voicemail box to maximum capacity; some of it were apologies while other were fiery—and drunken—accusations. He’s not sure where she has gone, but it’s obvious she wants to be alone, or at least, without him.  
   
Giving up on trying to contact her had translated in giving up on his phone and computer, most emails going unanswered too. It wasn’t until a physical visit from Brandon, that he realized he wasn’t in a position to be doing these types of things anymore. The last thing he wanted to do was make another trip to LA, but he could definitely use the distraction of work.  
   
His manager had been approaching him about this particular job in Los Angeles he’d held off for the sole reason of it being there of all places, alongside with the desire for a career in television entirely lacking from his being. It’s all too crazy and he’s perfectly content with being a country artist safely rooted in Nashville and its close surroundings. Though, he also can’t deny that his career had taken off exactly because he’s never been afraid to take risks, never been one to chase whatever was ‘it’ for the moment—instead, he’s always made the records  _he_  wanted to make, using the words  _he_  felt comfortable singing, with an image to match what  _he_  wanted it to be. Not squeaky clean like most new artist would like it. Playing it safe has never been part of his playbook and maybe Brandon is right, maybe he’s supposed to take this opportunity and run with it.  
   
It could be the place he finds himself in— _again_ —that makes it easier for his manager to convince him this time, but he’s surprised to find himself packing his suitcase for another trip to LA a few days later, getting ready for a meeting with the producers as he officially engages in negotiations.  
   
The hotel room he’s staying in is large and comfortable, and after the day he’s had he should’ve been able to find relaxation with ease. Things once again don’t come easy and it’s been way too long since he’s managed at a full night of rest.  
   
He’s staring at the hotel room ceiling, the clock on the nightstand revealing it’s only eleven pm and he closes his eyes against the bright green light. He can’t stop thinking about how Miranda hadn’t given him much of an explanation when she told him she wanted a ‘break’. All he remembers clearly is the yelling and miscommunication, the way he lost his patience with her in a way he hadn’t before and how she dismissed most of his accusations and pleas. He’s starting to think that relationships just aren’t meant for people like him, unable to understand why love comes this hard to him otherwise.  
   
He’s back to the place love always manages to get him back into, and it’s still just as dark as the first time. He’s survived all heartache up to this point so he wills himself to take a few deep breathes, trying to go over what he’s heard and talked about in today’s meetings with NBC.  
   
Though the idea still sounds silly to him, he could understand the appeal a bit more now he’s heard people explain the idea to him in other words. He’s pretty sure he’s losing his damn mind as he’s seriously considering joining a reality TV show in which he’ll be seated in a large red chair, waiting for talent that makes him want to press a button that will then proceed to turn him around. He chuckles at himself, the self-pitying turning into something damn near comical now.  
   
His mind wanders off to his usual reasons for being in LA and they’ve all had to do with a certain blonde woman that isn’t in his life anymore. The ending of that relationship seemed to not have done what they hoped it would’ve, since protecting the fragile thing they had by stepping away while they still could, did nothing to keep their friendship intact.  
   
The imagery of that break-up joins his most current one and his chest tightens painfully. He thought he made some progress with Miranda, since the fights had lessened significantly, but he should’ve known they were walking on borrowed time. No matter how hard he tries to keep things right with them, they somehow always make a sharp left.  
   
He doesn’t even realize his hand slipping across the sheet, over to the nightstand, until he’s typing out a message he knows he shouldn’t send.

He drops the phone back to the pillow afterwards and scrubs a hand over his eyes. He doesn’t think he can handle any more emotions hitting him tonight, the overwhelming sense of feeling lost swallowing him whole.  
   
His phone buzzes in the next moment on the unoccupied pillow next to him and he has to blink a few times before realizing she didn’t text him back—she’s calling.

His heart goes from feeling bruised and numb, to bruised and beating out of control. His hand hovers over the green button, knowing he doesn’t want to press decline but also feeling more nervous than ever.

He texted her out of the blue for no reason. He should’ve known it would lead to something interesting.

“Hello.”

He picks up, his voice hoarse and raw. It sounds like he’s been sleeping for the past six days, which unfortunately doesn’t sound like the worst thing to him.

“You texted me.” She states softly, skipping all formalities, though her voice holds a hint of enthusiasm.

“I did.” He nearly whispers, his hand coming over his eyes as he’s fighting to hold back tears at the sound of her voice.

“Blake, are you okay?”

Always tuned into him, even from far away and apparently still after all this time, she notices his mood immediately.

“Remember when we first started talking, you’d call me every night while on tour.”

He can almost hear her smile, the silence on the other end of the line suggesting she’s touched by the trip down memory lane— his own heart aching badly as he once again remembers what he’s lost.

“Those were easier times.” She responds sadly, yet gently.

“I need that right now, Gwen.” He admits, his voice shaky. “I need my friend.”

He wonders if he’s just been too forward, if his needy behaviour is what’s gonna make her hang up in his face.

“I’m here.” Her short reply could be considered the bare minimum, but he hears the conviction in these two words like no other.

Life seems to really have it out for him, as his eyes start painfully burning, his throat constricting and before he knows it, he’s unattractively crying.

He registers her soft and sweet words comforting him through it, her voice patient and understanding— no judgement to be found.

It’s such a nice contrast to what he’s used to getting these past few years from his own girlfriend, that it brings on another wave of emotion.

“Sorry.” He mutters through some shaky exhales, his hand rubbing over his mouth. “ _Christ_. I’m sorry Gwen, I didn’t mean, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.“

“Tell me what happened.” She urges him softly, ignoring his insecurities altogether. “Are you and Miranda alright?”

He’s surprised by her own bluntness, willing to go there without any prompting.

Blake chuckles ruefully.

“No.” He rasps, the words hurting his throat. “No, we’re not alright.”

Gwen lets out a soft sigh, his eyes closing at the sound of it.

“I’m sorry, Blake. What happened?”

He shakes his head, the memory of everything that transpired between him and his girlfriend still just as unclear.

“I’m not even sure.” He admits on a growl. “All I know is that it’s bullshit.”

Gwen laughs softly, but it doesn’t sound wrong. It’s that bitter laugh coated in sympathy; it’s a sound that perfectly sums up his mood, his life.

“It almost always is.”

He wants to tell her it never was with  _them_ , but it wouldn’t help anything and if he’s honest with himself, it’s not what he needs.

“Yeah.” He silently confirms. “I don’t want to talk about her though, I just want to hear your voice.”

“Okay...” She replies slightly hesitant, not knowing where to go from here.

He suddenly picks up on what her sudden hesitation could be and shakes his head.

“Is this a bad time? Are you spending time with Gavin, cause I can call back—“

“—No, it’s okay.” She cuts him off swiftly. “We’re also kind of..... on a break— it’s complicated, but he’s not here.”

He surprises himself by all the different emotions he feels at her admission, his heart feeling entirely too heavy by it all.

“Gwen, I’m sorry.”

It’s quiet for a few seconds.

“So am I.”

“Guess we could both use some distraction.”

She chuckles, the sound of movement becoming apparent on the other end of the line, his ears desperately trying to make out what she could be doing.

“You might be right.” She concedes. “Wanna talk about what you’ve done today?”

He chuckles. “You used to be better at this.”

“Hey, it’s been a long time since I’ve talked to you like this. Give me a chance.”

“It’s been  _too_  long.” He confesses.

“You also don’t live here.” She brings up and he wonders if it’s supposed to suffice as an excuse.

“That’s why phones are such a great invention.”

“Smart ass.”

For the first time in a while he manages at a genuine smile, his heart hammering before he lets the piece of information slip that could change everything.

“I’m in LA right now.”

He hears her small gasp before she starts nervously rambling.

“You’re in Los Angeles? Like on the airport back to Oklahoma or here like  _here_? You don’t even like it here so I’m guessing you’re just passing through, which is bad enough for you, I’m sorry I’m talking way too much, why are you here?”

He laughs again, his body slowly starting to relax a bit.

“You still breathing?”

Now it’s her turn to laugh softly, the sound a slightly embarrassed one, but she stays quiet otherwise.

“I’m here for a possible gig. I’ll be here until tomorrow night.”

“Oh woah.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, you could say that.”

It’s quiet for a few minutes and he starts to realize that he might’ve made a mistake letting her know about his whereabouts.

That’s until her soft voice speaks again.

“Wanna meet up somewhere?”

Despite secretly hoping for the question, he’s not prepared for how it makes him feel, his hands now sticky with sweat instead of tears he’d wiped away earlier.

“Where?”

She ponders out loud, the mood shifting between them from relaxed to a bit more nervous, anticipatory.

“You wanna meet at the Polo?” She suggests. “It’s not that far and pretty exclusive, plus we did say we needed some distraction.”

He swallows roughly, the need to be with her somewhere quiet heavily present but the need to be with her  _anywhere_  much more persistent.

“I like that idea.”

“You’re gonna get there okay?” She asks, letting her voice trail off.

“You might have to text me the name again, I’m sure my Uber driver won’t have a problem finding it.”

She laughs.

“You’re horrible with directions here.”

“I know the direction to your place.”

The words came out without thinking and her stagger of breath sends him into an internal panic.

“That you do.” She whispers, her own voice now sounding like it’s laced with emotion and rawness.

“Text me the name of the bar. Say meet up there in an hour?”

“45 minutes.” She says instead, the sound of rustling once again becoming apparent to him. “I’m already on my way.”

*

He finds his gaze constantly drifting, in and out of focus, the dance between wanting to take in every little detail and get lost in thought with only the blurry outlines of her hair gets more and more intense. Despite what she must be going through as well, she looks like a dream in front of him.

If he could get away with staring at her all night, he would order himself another Bourbon and sit back, allowing his eyes to wander over the entirety of her until she needs to go.

She eventually calls him out.

“Blake, hello, are you in there?”

Blake sits up a bit straighter, his lips curving into a tiny smirk. “Right here.”

“Are you sure?” She smiles, a hint of worry in her eyes though.

“Nowhere I’d rather be.”

She brushes the words off like they’re said jokingly, an over exaggeration of sorts, but they both know it’s not.

“Eventually we always end up here.” She says slowly, smiling at him gently. “At a bar together, drinking away our sorrows.”

It’s an easy conclusion to reach and he doesn’t blame her for making the observation, but he doesn’t let the opportunity pass to set her straight.

“I’m not drinking away my sorrows.” He says next, making sure he’s got her full attention. “Never when I’m with you.”

“You’re not?”

He shakes his head adamantly. “I’m here with you so I won’t drink away my sorrows back at the hotel.”

“But you’re drinking now.” She states simply.

“Not because I’m sad or want to forget anything. The contrary actually.”

Her smile has made room for a slight part of her lips, her eyes pooling with an emotion he can’t quite make out.

“Care to explain?”

He shrugs. “I want to remember every meeting I have with you. I’m never drinking myself into oblivion when with you because these memories of you?  _Yeah_ , I need those.”

She swallows roughly, her eyes betraying exactly how much she’s affected by his words.

“I shouldn’t let you say these things to me.” She chuckles.

Blake’s eyebrows raise before softly smirking at her. His eyes wander down to her hand, free from any jewellery.

“Is there anyone waiting for you at home I gotta answer to, cause I doubt it.”

His blunt words shock her and he witnesses a hint of anger pass over her until it evaporates on the spot.

“You gotta answer to me.” She replies playfully, while her eyes are a bit hooded now.

“Gladly.”

“It kills me that you still see me like  _this_.” She blurts out then, waving a hand in between them to try and give him an indication of what she’s referring to. When his eyes remain confused, she elaborates. “So different from how everyone else sees me. You’ve done that from the very start and you’d think that somewhere down the line I would’ve been knocked off that damn pedestal.”

He lets his lips connect with the rim of his glass again, disguising a small smile as she says the words so confidently yet oozes vulnerability and insecurity all the same.

“You  _wanna_  be knocked off the pedestal?”

She shrugs. “I don’t deserve to be on one.”

“And yet you are.” He retorts. “What does that say about me?”

If he knew any better he’d say that she started trembling a little, the emotion overpowering her completely, her heart on her sleeve.

“That you’re crazy?” She laughs bitterly.

“Well that’s a given, but not what I was going for.”

She laughs again, this time less bitter, and it makes him want to keep joking so he can revel in the sound all night.

“I don’t know.” She gives in. “What does it say about you, Blake?”

He lowers his glass again, leaning into her space a bit so he can whisper against her ear, letting his hot breath coat the shell of her ear.

“It says that I love you, Gwen. That I see you for who you are and still think you’re the fucking greatest.”

Her gasp was to be expected but her pulling away wasn’t necessarily and it hurts him a bit.

“Blake.” She whispers, her hand raking through her hair nervously. “You can’t, you  _shouldn’t_  say these things.”

“I’m not just saying these things, Gwen.” He lets her know pointedly. “I mean them.”

She shakes her head, a blush colouring her cheeks.

“But you shouldn’t.”

“I don’t give a shit about that, to be honest.”

Her eyes widen but he can see the shift in her— the moment she lets go and holds on to his beliefs instead of her fears.

“I... I need some air.” She says slightly out of breath, the sound almost like she’d just paused an incredibly intense make out session and god damn, yeah he wants that. “Come with me?”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, the invitation coming as a slight surprise.

He follows her out to the parking lot, letting his eyes take her in as she leans against the outside wall, her breathing slightly ragged and her demeanour a whole lot nervous. He wants to tell her to calm down, that it’s just him and she has no reason to be this shaken up. He stays quiet though, realizing she’s going through much more than just his presence and probably needs this moment of grounding herself.

He’s struck by the overwhelming need to help her out though, wanting nothing more than to help her ease some of the raging wars inside. If he were a better man he would’ve stayed out of it, but he doesn’t and his admission is out before he can stop it.

Before he  _wants_  to stop it.  
   
“I will never stop loving you, Gwen.” He whispers and something breaks within him when the admission leaves his mouth, practically choking on his breath.

It’s nothing he’s never said before, but he’s pushed down his feelings for her so much, forbidding himself from thinking of her like that. His heart thuds from the intensity of his words and her stare; his eyes watering underneath her scrutiny. No matter how much time passes, he’ll never not love her—this is complete and utter surrender to a force far powerful than he’s ever known.

She weakens him. Brings him to a point of unravelling.  
   
He watches her face fall as a sob wracks through her body. He wants to tell her to let it all out, tell her can handle it, but he’s frozen in front of her. It’s been a while since he’s seen her cry like this and he’s lost for the first time in his life when it comes to her vulnerability. Instead, he watches her tears pool down, marking her cheeks, as she makes no move to cover her face from him.  
   
“You stopped texting. Stopped calling.” Her voice is barely audible and he hates it.  
   
He hates himself, cause she’s right—he  _did_  stop texting. There was no way he could move on from her, continue with his life, engage into a new relationship, all with Gwen still an active force in his life. He would’ve dropped everything for her and he couldn’t let himself do that, so he stopped texting back and forced himself to keep breathing when one day she’d stopped trying to reach out too.  
   
“I’m sorry.” He whispers.

His hand is suddenly moving until he’s able to grasp her left hand, melding his fingers with hers, intertwining their palms. The simplicity of the action hits them both like a bus; a few breathes pass between them and he concentrates on the sound, calming him down in the process.  
   
“I always thought we’d be in each other’s life forever.” She admits brokenly, her hand squeezing his.  
   
Though the words are merely spoken as a to-the point statement, the accusation is out there, surrounding his being with a heavy fog. Their multiple run-ins throughout time have all shown just  _why_  they can’t be friends—this whole night has only proved to show that again. He knows she’s letting her pain speak, the hurt so overwhelmingly present he can barely breathe.  
   
“I’m still here whenever you need me.” He hears himself say, wincing at the unconvinced look in her eyes. Despite meaning the words, he knows it’s not what she means, not what she needs.  
   
“ _Yeah_ …” She forces out hoarsely. “So am I.”  
   
Hearing the words being spoken back to him makes him realize just how unfulfilling they are at this point, knowing that when it comes down to it they’ll both go back to their own lives, hands hovering above each other’s numbers every now and then but never pressing call.  
   
He moves in closer than, his free hand resting on the wall next to her head, his body leaning into her to the point he can feel her shakily exhale of breathes hit his face. She seems a bit confused by the sudden increase of contact between them, but doesn’t ask him to move. Her eyes never waver from his, pleading for something he’s not quite sure about.  
   
She hesitates only slightly before wrapping her arms around his neck, drawing their bodies even closer. The slowness in which she had pulled him closer showed him that she wanted to give him time to back away, but he knows this is mostly selfish on her part; he is warm and stable—all things she needs right now and she clings to him as if she’d never find intimacy with anyone else ever again.  
   
“I missed you.” She whispers against his ear, her head pressing into his shoulder afterwards.  
   
He sinks his fingers gently into her lower back, as if he’s afraid she will slip away from him. It feels like she honestly just might.

Their meetings are never permanent, but that doesn’t make them any less meaningful. Just extra painful. He doesn’t know how long they’re standing like that, not even sure who’s holding who up at his point.  
   
He’d never physically clung onto a person like this ever. He’s never been clung to like this in return either.  
   
He lowers his head until his nose meets with the crown of her head and he allows himself to drink in her scent. He doesn’t have any right and is no way entitled to this proximity to her, but he takes it anyways. He doesn’t know why the idea of her using the same shampoo all these years later is so reassuring, but it is. Perhaps it’s change he’s just deathly afraid of. He wants to keep the memory of her in a neat, inaccessible box to draw upon only in times of immense desperation. The darkest part of the nights and coldest days of winter. Maybe then he can be assured that she’ll always be there for him.  
   
After what feels like an eternity he pulls back slightly, a few strands of her static hair getting caught on his cheek and his hand comes out to separate them. He gently removes the locks that he only then realizes are sticking to his own tear-stained cheeks.  
   
“I don’t blame you for not being able to remain friends.” She whispers slowly then, her fingers reaching out to touch his cheeks. “I hate it, but I get it.”  
   
The touch of her fingers on his skin reminds him again of the lack of a ring present, allowing one more breath into his lungs before he throws all sanity out of the window. He steps forward quickly, backing her up against the wall before kissing the air out of her deliberately. She gasps against his lips, her hand flying to his bicep as the other one slides to the back of his neck.  
   
He kisses her with a confidence he can actively see knocking the wind out of her. Yet, she’s just as unwavering in her responses to him. When his hands lower onto her hips and push her more firmly into him, she releases a low moan against his lips, going straight to his groin. Their kisses are turning rough and unyielding and his lips were starting to burn, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is the way her tongue feels against his and the way her hands are desperately trying to keep him close.  
   
His lower half crashes into her harder than intended when she pulls at his hips in reply to him doing the same, her breath catching in shock. A low rumble escapes his throat, almost sounding like he’s in pain and it’s then that he moves his hips away from her. He grasps her hips more firmly, holding her against the wall so he can continue kissing without risking taking it too far.  
   
“Blake….” She tries in between kisses, her voice weak and heated. “We can’t, we shouldn’t…”  
   
He pulls back momentarily, but his hands stay where they are on her hips, the look in her eyes contradicting what just came out of her mouth.  
   
“I’ve waited five years for this damn moment, so unless you tell me you don’t want this right now—for God’s sake—don’t fucking stop this.”  
   
She gasps in response to his sharp words, his own breath hitching at the intensity in which he just spoke them. He hears her mumble a ‘ _fuck_ ’ under her breath, her hands back to the back of his head as she pulls him against her lips again. His mouth descends to her neck, his lips brushing the skin there and skimming the shell of her ear.  
   
“Blake….” She speaks again, his eyes closing as he prepares for what’s to come. He stills the movements of his mouth on her skin, just lingering there, before she surprises them both. “Come home with me.”  
   
He feels the tension between them like electricity and the stillness that exists between them becomes a tangible thing; neither one moving. She does her best not to waver, looking at him almost too intensely. He feels his own eyes narrowing for a split second, suddenly second guessing himself but it’s not long until her eyes dip determinedly to his mouth and he’s reminded of the mutual lust brewing.  
   
“You sure?” He asks barely audible.  
   
She nods profusely, masking the desperate look in his eyes.  
   
“Yes.”  
   
“Gwen if you— “  
   
She shushes him immediately, her finger sliding over his lips.  
   
“ _Now_ , I’ve waited five years for this damn moment, so unless you tell me you don’t want this right now….” She starts, throwing his own words back into his face, a smug smile on her lips.  
   
“Shut up.” He smiles, his hand on her cheek pulling her forward again, kissing the rest of that statement clear off her lips. His teeth nip at her bottom lip before he finally tears his mouth off her, both their breathing erratic.  
   
He knows they’ll do something they won’t come back from anytime soon, his chest tightening as he lets the words finally spill from his lips.  
   
“Take me home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cruel cliffhanger, the next chapter will pick up where this one left off ;)


	16. Chapter 16

_August, 2010_  
   
   
Her place looks much of the same as the last time he’d seen it. The spacious house is modern and luxurious, without ever scattering the line of obscene, shattering the pre-conceived idea of how a ‘rock star’ is supposed to live. He doesn’t dare to ask if the few out of place looking accessories come from her not yet ex-husband. He knows more about their wedding than he would’ve liked, the magazines having covered that backwards and sideways. He also knows how turbulent and dysfunctional that relationship is, not being at all surprised to see her back on her own again.  
   
The walls are a little less empty than he remembers them; more plagues added in the hallway for starters. It reminds him of how fast things can go in this industry, only a few years have passed, yet the achievements have kept coming at an expeditious rate.  
   
She catches him staring at the attainments on the wall, resulting in a slightly embarrassed expression that’s claiming her features.  
   
“I guess you were right.” She shrugs, her lower lip pinned between her teeth. “Going solo wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to me.”  
   
He smiles widely, his eyes finally tearing away from the wall as they zone in on her completely. There are no words to describe all the emotions that rage through him at seeing this wonderful human stand before him again, her presence ever so mesmerising.  
   
“Like I said, there’s nothing you can’t do. You’re Gwen Stefani.”

He speaks the words looking right at her, unwavering. He watches for any sign of hesitation, but aside from her ramped up breathing, nothing suggests any reluctance.  
   
“Blake, I just need you to know….”  
   
He steps even closer, her arms automatically sliding around his neck while his loop at her waist, pulling her closer.  
   
“Need me to know  _what_?” He whispers, his lips only a few inches away from hers.  
   
He watches her already struggle to formulate words, before he slips a hand beneath the hem of her blouse, sliding easily beneath the flowing material to stroke up and down her spine. He appreciates the clothing that clings to her frame so perfectly, showing off each wonderful asset she so proudly owns, but he’s quickly learning to appreciate the drapery clothing she’s apparently also a fan of.  
   
“I want you to know that he and I are on a break, we’re not together but— “    
   
“—You can’t promise me it’ll stay that way.”  
   
He finishes her sentence, realizing he’d rather hear himself say it than have her beautiful lips speak the same words.  
   
She nods and he wishes he’d closed his eyes, for it being the second worst thing he could see in that moment, right behind the pity that crosses her eyes next. He closes his eyes five seconds too late, trying to imagine a world in which they never lost track of each other, and were everything wasn’t always so damn wrong.  
   
“I don’t care.” He hears himself say, his eyes opening.  
   
Hers widen in response. “You don’t?”

He shakes his head, hoping his physical reaction is more convincing than his words would’ve been.  
   
“Do you want me?”  
   
Her first response comes as a hitching of her breath, her fingers tentatively toying with the hairs in the nape of his neck.  
   
“I don’t think I could ever  _not_  want you.” She admits lowly.  
   
He wishes he could say he’s a better man, that he needs to hear more from her, but he’s entirely sure that he doesn’t.

It almost hurts when he kisses her, the bottled up need and frustration all bubbling up to the surface in one prominent moment. Gwen doesn’t seem fazed by it at all, as she presses into him equally as desperate.  
   
He walks her backwards, her small gasp hitting his lips as her back collides with the wall behind her. He nips and licks at her lower lip, tugging it forward with his teeth, tearing the moan straight from her throat. There’s a part of him that’s telling him they might need to slow things down, be more careful, but he can’t find it in himself to listen.  
   
“Jesus Christ Gwen.” He groans as she pushes into him, her hips bucking at his groin. His hand moves to the back of her neck, keeping her in place as he deepens their kiss, her nails digging into his shoulders.  
   
There’s a low whine that escapes her throat as he quite literally devours her, leaving little space to breathe. By the way she’s all over him, she needs this just as much as he does. She’s shameless in the way she nearly climbs his body, hooking one leg around his waist as she waits for him to lift her.  
   
He does so immediately, not about to waste any more time.  
   
“Blake, please.” She begs, rocking her hips again while he walks her down the hall, until he reaches the what was once a familiar bedroom.  
   
Her deliberate kisses along his jaw and neck have him seriously weakened as he lowers her on the mattress, following her down immediately.  
   
“This is going to be fast.” He warns lowly, working at his own shirt and jeans while she scrambles at doing the same.  
   
“I want it.”  
   
_Fuck_. He probably needs to think this through more, knowing he’s going to want more the second this is over and will most likely be disappointed.  
   
He takes one look at the gorgeous woman writhing beneath him in only her underwear, the rest of her clothing already disregarded on the floor, ready for him to fuck her in the bed that now belongs to her and Gavin, and all sanity seems to rush from his brain.

His mouth is actively seeking out hers as their tongues battle for dominance, her hands relentless in his hair. The spike of pain is almost jarring, but it’s just what he needs to remind himself of what this is.  
   
Her hand reaches between them, palming his cock through his boxers and his lips stutter on hers in response. He rocks his hand forward into her hand once, fingering at the opening of her bra until it snaps open, pulling away long enough to let her disregard the lacy fabric completely.  
   
“Blake, I need you to fuck me okay? Don’t be careful with me, don’t hold back. Whatever you want, just do it.”  
   
Her words are enough to make him combust right on the spot, but he reclaims his spot against her lips, scattering well placed bites along her lips and neck.  
   
“You want it that bad?”  
   
“You know I do.” She whispers, even though the words come out more like a whimper, her fingers finding their place into his curls again.  
   
He pauses against her lips momentarily, resting his forehead against hers. “You’ve got a condom?”  
   
Her free hand comes up to trace circles on his naked chest, biting her lip before meeting his gaze.  
   
“I’m on the pill.” She whispers, her nail teasing the area around his nipple. “Plus, I got tested not too long ago, so I know I’m clean.”  
   
“I am too.” He responds softly once her intentions become clear.  
   
“I want to feel you.” She says lowly, both of her arms sliding around his neck again. “All of you.”  
   
Blake’s voice comes out as a mixed groan and growl, the intensity and surrealness of the situation quickly catching up with him.

He fumbles his way past his boxers, disregarding it somewhere without looking, until he feels the weight of his erection against his palm. The instinctive motion of his hand acting as an unbearable tease when he’s already so hard and desperate for her.  
   
His free hand taps her thigh, and she takes the hint quickly, getting rid of the final piece of clothing that separates them. He steadies himself by grabbing her waist, his hand disappearing between her legs before he’s buried deep inside of her in one rough thrust.

He doesn’t give either one of them the chance to savour the sensation, ignoring her gasp as he leaves her empty again.

He’s willing to deal with his own disappointment for the chance to hear her ask for more.  
   
What falls from her lips is mostly an incoherent cry of his name, but it’s enough. He drives forward again, finding the welcome clench of her muscles around him. He finds a relentless rhythm quickly, as Gwen tries to hold on to him, _anything_ , to keep her from losing it.

He pulls both her hands above her head, pressing them into the pillow with his own.  
   
“Fuck Blake.”  
   
“Is this what you want, Gwen?”  
   
He feels the frustration of knowing how much time they’ve lost, and anger about their inability to stay together throughout it all, and it results in chaos in his chest. Chaos that comes to a boiling point right here in this bed, as he punishes them both. He knows she feels it when she squeezes his hand right back, as it keeps her locked in place, meeting him halfway in his intensity.  
   
They’re volatile and close to animalistic together, and maybe that’s been inevitable from the moment they met. He’s finding it hard to regret any of it among the filthy slap of skin, her obvious wetness and the gorgeous way she keeps saying  _fuck_  with any breath she can spare.  
   
“Blake….  _more_.” She groans, her hips bucking up wildly, her eyes shutting fiercely when he snaps his hips forward, hard.  
   
“Ask me.” He retorts, his voice impressively calm for how quickly he’s diving into a tailspin of his own.  
   
“ _Please_.” She begs, her head snapping back as he hits somewhere deep inside her, making her thighs shake ferociously every time he comes in contact with it. “I need it so badly, please Blake.”  
   
Releasing his grip on her hands, he uses one of his own to travel down to where they’re joined together, slowly rubbing at her clit. He doesn’t use much pressure, but it seems to be enough for her as a scream erupts from her throat. He keeps up his speed, not stopping as he feels her whole body tightening at once.  
   
“Are you close, baby?”  
   
He reaches forward to claim her lips for a dirty kiss, swallowing her answer as she nods against him.  
   
“Come for me, darlin’.”  
   
She doesn’t possess the strength to fight it, as her release follows soon after, her whole body shaking when she lets go. The contractions around him have him hovering dangerously close to the finish line himself as his mouth ventures down to nip at her chest and throat, determined to drag her pleasure out as long as he can. He pumps into her with no finesse at all, spilling with a few final thrusts as he does his best to remain upright and not crash into her with his full weight.  
   
When he finally slips free from her, he lets his back collide with the matrass, both looking up at the ceiling as they try to steady their breathing. Neither one talk, instead Gwen moves back against his body when she regains some strength. His arm comes around her instinctively and his eyes close at the sense of familiarity—sense of peace.

He knows he probably won’t be granted the luxury, but he finds himself silently praying for things to stay like this for just a while longer.  
   
   
*  
   
   
   
She sleepily snuggles up against him, melding herself further into his warmth—even after all this time apart, some things just never change. His arms automatically tighten around her to keep her there, dreading the moment they inevitably part ways again.

They’d woken up around the same time in the middle of the night, followed by Gwen’s admission that she missed him, leading to another round of passionate lovemaking; one of the gentlest they’ve ever been. And while wild and fast is amazing, slow and exploratory is just as wonderful.  
   
He wants to hide away here all day, ignore all his responsibilities until Gwen kicks him out again, but deciding to keep some of his dignity intact, he’ll make the first move. Besides, he’s in no position to be cancelling or getting late to gigs; his career rapidly solidifying him as one of country music’s finest.  
   
“Gwen.” He calls softly, combing a hand through her hair while she stirs.  
   
“Hmmm?”

“I need to get up.”  
   
Her hand grazes his thigh, moving a bit more inward until she’s deliberately cupping his hardness beneath the sheets.  
   
“Feels to me like you already are.” She shoots back sleepily, a pleased grin on her face.  
   
He gives her hip a playful squeeze, unable to suppress a laugh.  
   
“You’re a funny girl. But really, I need to get up. I have a meeting here, plus I need to get back on a plane to Nashville.”  
   
“Okay.” Her voice drops a full octave when she speaks, the disappointment obvious.

The sheets fall around her waist when she sits up and it takes less than two seconds for Blake’s gaze to find her exposed skin. He’s seen it all plenty of times; between his fingers and lips he has probably touched every inch of her, but nothing will ever prepare him for the sight of Gwen Stefani naked. No matter how many times he’s gotten the honour of experiencing it.  
   
He climbs out of bed himself, his earlier intentions of getting out as quickly as possible disappearing faster than rain on a lake, reaching his hand out to her. He watches as she slips her legs from beneath the duvet and takes the outstretched hand. The moment she’s steady on her feet and in front of him, he wraps her in an embrace; just enjoying the feel of her body so close to his again.

She silently buries her head in his neck, breathing him in, his scent mixed with hers after a night in each other’s arms.  
   
“Shower?” She murmurs eventually, pushing lightly on his shoulders.

He leans back a little, but doesn’t relinquish his grip on her.  
   
“Gwen…. I should really get going.”  
   
Her expression stays surprisingly happy, her head lowering to his chest. He feels his breath slightly hitching when she starts softly kissing the naked skin there, moving up to his neck as she diverts slightly to the right, giving his bare shoulder the same treatment.  
   
“We can be quick.” She whispers, smiling against his skin when his hand involuntarily moves to the back of her neck to keep her touches right there.  
   
He nods softly, his strength dissolving rapidly as he doesn’t possess enough of it to end this yet. She guides him towards her bathroom, their bodies pressed together as they attempt to walk in unison without stepping on each other, neither one letting any space get between them.  
   
When they finally make it to the bathroom, only then does Blake let go to turn on the shower. He looks over to Gwen whose arms are crossed over her chest to stave of the chill of the air, being reminded of how easily cold she gets.

She doesn’t start relaxing until the water gets seriously warm and steam begins curling through the room. Blake steps in first, holding his hand out to guide her in after him.  
   
The stall is beyond luxurious, with dual shower heads, beautiful tile and a smoky glass door; it’s exactly what you’d except from a popstar at day, rock star at night.  
   
After a good five minutes of just standing there, he pulls back and gently positions her head beneath the stream of water. With her back to him, she lifts her chin, leans back into his touch as his fingers start caressing her scalp, winding through her hair along with the water.    
   
“I like when you do that.” She says softly, nearly melting into him.  
   
“I know.”  
   
He pours a generous amount of shower gel in his hands next, starting on her shoulders as he slowly works his way down her arms.  
   
“Are we crazy?” He whispers just loud enough for it to reach over the sounds of water hitting the tiles.  
   
He feels her tense up in his arms, realizing she probably wanted the same thing he did; ignore the severity of what they’re doing and live in this bubble for as long as the other would allow it.

She turns around in his arms, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek. He watches her features sadden a bit when he refrains from touching her and keeps his arms hanging by his side.  
   
“I need this, Blake. I need you to keep touching me for just a little while longer.”  
   
“ _Gwen_ ….”  
   
“Keep going.” She urges. “Please?”

Reluctantly he continues, his hands tentatively working their way across her shoulders and down her arms, then down to her sternum and ribs. Gwen’s eyes are fixated on him every movement, watching as he rinses away last night’s activities from her skin.  
   
He steps back a little once he’s all done, allowing her to turn around again to stand under the spray more effectively, washing away the soap. She then returns the favour, thoroughly washing his hair and body, enjoying the feeling of her slim fingers delicately sliding over his skin.  
   
They find themselves back in each other’s arms when all is said and done, neither making a move to leave the shower. He traces a finger down her neck and across her collarbone, memorizing every detail.  
   
“We shouldn’t have done this.”  
   
Her brown eyes become hooded before she lets him trace his fingers over her skin. “Do you regret it?”  
   
He shakes his head, yet he can’t help but choke up a bit. “I wish you wouldn’t ask me that.”  
   
She nods. “Cause you do.”  
   
“We’re not together. You’re still technically married.”  
   
The mention of her marriage causes her to wince, and he realizes he hasn’t ever known her when that  _wasn’t_  the general reaction to anything Gavin related.  
   
She meets his gaze again, her eyes both angry and apologetic.  
   
“I never thought we’d end up here again.”  
   
He shakes his head, the realization maddening. Things were so complicated when they first met, yet everything managed to get even more difficult this time around. He’s met with the same passion and longing for her as he did then, only now the stakes are even higher and he’s met with rational resistance coming from within.  
   
“Why do you keep going back to him?”  
   
He foresees her pulling away, his hands landing on her hips to keep her close. She shakes her head, while her fingers absentmindedly start tracing the drops of water on his chest.  
   
“Do you really want to spend the remaining time we got together talking about Gavin?”  
   
He doesn’t. There’s actually nothing he wants less. If he had it his way, he’d take her right back to bed, no talking at all.

If the universe  _really_  granted him some wishes, he would take her back home next, spend all hours of the day making up for all the time they’ve lost. He just doesn’t live in a world where that’s a reality, and so he’s running low on patience.  
   
“Actually, yeah. I’d like to talk about how every time we’re together, it’s him who’s standing between us.”  
   
Just like that, they’re peaceful moment together is completely shattered; her beautiful body turning away from him as she turns off the shower and leaves him with no choice but to follow her out into the bathroom. She throws him a towel without so much as look his way, her own hands working hard at covering her naked form from him. The towel clings to her chest, shielding her most private areas.  
   
“I’m not gonna do this with you right now.”  
   
“Why not?” Blake pushes, drying himself off slowly. “Why is it so hard for you to talk about this, but so easy for you to give your body to me.”  
   
Her eyes widen, one hand gripping the towel to keep it from slipping.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you about who I’m dating or who I’m  _not_  dating; you’re not my boyfriend anymore.”  
   
“I’m just a guy you hook up with when you’re going through relationship troubles.” Blake muses, diverting his gaze away from her before locking eyes again. “Was that what I was to you when we were together?”  
   
“W-what?” She stammers, her face looking like she just got punched in the stomach.  
   
“We got together right after he cheated on you. Did you use me to get over him? Did you realize you never did by the time we broke up, so you ran back to him?”  
   
She shakes her head ferociously, tears pooling in her eyes but never making its way down her cheeks—Blake can feel the burn of it in his own bright blue’s.  
   
“You’re an idiot and I need you to get out.”

He ignores the cracks in her voice, or the tremble of her lips as he turns his back on her. Hanging the towel over the vanity, he walks back into the master bedroom. His clothes are scattered everywhere and it takes him a while to scramble them all together, paying Gwen no mind as he hears her enter the room.  
   
“I can’t believe you just said that to me.” She speaks softly, her words angry but most of all seeping with hurt.  
   
He chuckles to himself when he realizes she’s choosing to react to his accusations only with his back turned to her.  
   
“I can’t believe you’re acting like it’s such a long shot.”  
   
He knows it’s a shitty thing to say, but he’s in the process of getting dressed so he can haul his ass out of there like a damn booty call, his anger boiling up higher than he’s ever remembered it doing whilst directed at her.  
   
“Do you even know what you’re saying?” She spits harshly, the staggering of her breath an audible sound in the room. “You’re basically saying you believe that everything we shared back then was a lie. That I never meant any of it.”  
   
He lifts his shirt over his head right after having zipped his jeans up. He looks for his socks he’s sure must be close to the bed somewhere. He only turns around after having found them finally.  
   
“I’m not saying you didn’t mean any of it.” He responds matter of factly. “I’m saying you felt those things because you didn’t have him, because I helped you feel better during a time where you desperately needed it.”  
   
“My feelings for you had nothing to do with Gavin.”  
   
He chuckles. “That would probably be easier to believe if he wasn’t going to be the one you’ll run off to as soon as I get on that plane today.”  
   
“You’re impossible.” She breathes, both hands raking through her hair.  
   
She’s dressed in nothing but a large t-shirt and underwear, not having bothered with anything else before she followed him in here it seems. He hates himself for how easy it is for him to get lost in her, no matter what the occasion.  
   
“Whatever, Gwen.”

He physically and emotionally can’t do this with her anymore, the whole thing draining him on the spot and he just needs to get out of here before he cancels all his responsibilities and heads to the nearest bar. He gets busy collecting his final things, carrying himself into the diner room where he knows he left his coat and wallet, when he hears hurried footsteps following him again.  
   
He turns to look at her once more, her eyes red as the tears had finally made their way down her cheeks.  
   
“I  _loved_  you!” She yells suddenly, the cracking of her voice physically making him wince. “If you’re telling me you think I lied when I said that or you think I’m the type of person to just fall for the first person who can make me feel good, you can go fuck yourself.”  
   
He acts quickly then, grabbing her arm when she makes a move to turn around and head back to her bedroom.  
   
“Okay, okay….” He’s suddenly clueless about what to say or do next, standing with Gwen back in arms reach, her eyes looking at his expectantly, impatiently.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”  
   
“Do you believe it?”  
   
He shakes his head, his free hand rubbing over his face. “I don’t know.”  
   
She yanks her arm out of his grasp, taking a few steps back. “Then I have nothing to say to you.”  
   
“Gwen, what the hell do you want from me right now? You’re expecting me to not have any doubts or confusion about what we’re doing here—what  _you’re_  doing here. You don’t think I loved you with everything I had? You don’t think I  _still_  do?” He’s slightly out of breath after his little outburst, taking in her startled frame. “You think it’s easy for me to have to let you go again?”  
   
She lets a few more tears fall, both arms crossing over her chest almost like she’s trying to protect herself, shielding herself off.  
   
“This isn’t easy for me either, Blake.”  
   
He goes back to grabbing his things, putting on his coat as he feels her gaze on his back.  
   
“This isn’t just my fault.” She whispers softly behind him, her voice sounding as broken as he feels.  
   
“It’s not.” He concedes, turning around again. “But this is hurting me—you asked me if I regretted this?” He can see her face fall again, her eyes closing as she braces herself for the answer that will shatter the last pieces she’s holding on to. “I  _don’t_.”  
   
Her eyes open immediately, looking at him confused. “You don’t?”  
   
“Being here with you again is killing me, having to walk out of your door again is killing me. And despite all that heartache, I’d choose to end up here every. single. time.  _That’s_  what hurts me, Gwen. Loving you hurts me right now.”  
   
His words might be worse than admitting to feeling regret, but he’s past the point where he can be anything but honest with her.    
   
“Why do you still love me?”  
   
“I only so much as looked at you and knew I could spent my whole life with you.”  
   
She shakes her head, more tears falling from her eyes with that motion.  
   
“Why are you telling me this?”  
   
He shrugs. “Because I’m being selfish. If I have to live with this feeling every single day, I want you to know.”  
   
He doesn’t know where his sudden brazen honesty comes from, but he can’t stop it from falling off his lips in earnest. Not even her soft sobs can make him shut his mouth.  
   
“What do you want me to say?” She cries softly, her posture cracking. “What do you want me to do with this?”  
   
He steps closer to her, despite his brain telling him to just head out the door. Her breath hitches at his sudden proximity again, though she makes no move to create distance.  
   
“You want my honest answer?”  
   
She chuckles sarcastically, her tears a strange paradox to the way her words sound. “Why would you stop being honest now after everything you’ve said to me so far.”  
   
“Don’t go back to him.”  
   
Her eyes nearly pop out of their sockets, a pained grin forming on her lips.

“What the hell are you trying to do, Blake?”  
   
“I need you to show me I’m not crazy, that there’s still love there, and I need you to show me instead of telling me.”  
   
“By divorcing my husband?”  
   
He just nods, dead serious. “You’re not even wearing his ring anymore—you said it yourself, you’re on a break. He doesn’t deserve you and he never will, no matter how many times you run back to him.”  
   
She shakes her head, laughter spilling from her lips now, but he doesn’t budge.  
   
“You’re being insane, Blake! I can’t just…we’re not even…. You’re being irrational.”  
   
“What’s irrational, Gwen? Me thinking you won’t find happiness with someone like him or me thinking you’re hiding behind him because you think you can’t be with the one person you  _do_ want?”  
   
“Both.” She replies just as quickly, not missing a beat. “This is crazy. We both knew what this was, you said you didn’t care….” She shakes her head again as if she’s trying to make sense of things.  
   
“I won’t ever be able not to care when it comes to you, Gwen.”  
   
She opens her mouth to say something, but shuts it just as quickly. He glances briefly over to the clock on her wall, lowering his gaze back to his feet in the next moment.  
   
“I need to go.”

She nods, her eyes going up to the ceiling.

“You  _should_  go.”  
   
He gives her one more look, before heading for her door. He hates how spacious her place is all the sudden, wishing he wouldn’t have to pass so much of her before he can breathe untainted air.

“I can only handle so many goodbyes, Gwen.”

He leaves her with nothing more, knowing that the longer he stays, the more damage he’ll do and he’s pretty sure neither one are able to pick up those pieces. The sound of the door closing behind him suffices as physical slap; leaving just as hard as it was five years ago.  
   
He knows that laying his heart out to her the way he just did would be a risk, a risk that most likely would come back to bite him in the ass and he did it anyways. He’s done pretending like she’s not on his mind still, like he’s ever been able to feel a percentage of the passion he’s felt for her with Miranda.  
   
He thinks back to the words of his mother and realizes that maybe she _was_ right when she told him the person who disregarded his heart the most, was no one other than himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The most angsty part of this story has passed! Thank you guys for still sticking with me on this one, now I advice you to look at some of the cute pictures Gwen posted last night, to forget about the angst you've just read!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long chapter and a very important one!

_April, 2014_

 

He knows it’s been dark way too long, his blinds shutting out all light that had to have been shining outside. Despite it being good for the soul and all, he can’t find it within himself to let the light in, his mood fitting this depressing darkness much more. The gaping hole he seemed to have fallen in after his third relationship had officially exploded in his face seems to be endless, his body still feeling like it’s in the middle of a free-fall.

He’s been spending most afternoons in bed, the thought of love always slipping out of his grasp like water through his fingers making him nauseous. Hiding away under the covers, face deeply buried into his pillow, he wants to wait until he can finally escape this God forsaken city again.

Anger courses through his veins as he lets the reality of the situation settle over him, his feelings a painful battle of tug and war, with his heart on the receiving end of both. He knows his relationship with Miranda was made up out of a lot of flaws, but the disappointment in himself at having been unable to steer them into a different direction makes him want to smash things or scream until his voice gives out.

Instead, he lets his body melt into the mattress, his gaze unwavering on the ceiling.

He’s been busy taping the Voice for the last three days, finding himself in the empty rental he has here now, yet his place in Oklahoma isn’t much less vacated with his ex-girlfriend having moved out of there. It’s exactly _that_ image that gets the first batch of tears going this morning. He doesn’t have a clue how he’s gonna get through another day of filming today, feeling like there’s nowhere he’d wanna be less than on set right now. His hand rubs over his mouth, pressing firmly to somehow keep the pain inward, to not let his sounds spill into the empty room—as he’d most certainly wouldn’t be able to stop.

He’d promised Adam not to drink, the pain won’t be getting any less because of it anyways, plus he needed to be clearheaded for the contestants he’s mentoring. It’s been a while since he had to actively keep himself from reaching for the nearest bottle in sight, at risk of downing it completely.

The last time was after his break-up with Gwen.

He shakes his head almost violently, whisking the thought of his _other_ ex-girlfriend out of his head faster than she managed to slip in there to begin with.

That’s until he realizes the further irony of his situation. Like his break up isn’t bad enough, NBC had recently sat them all aside for a meeting, going over negotiations with potential coaches for the next season. He remembers when _her_ name got mentioned—the way his heart felt like it dropped to his stomach, and the way Adam had stared him down dumbfounded. He’d been meaning to call Gwen about it, see where she stood on all this and maybe talk her out of it, yet he didn’t get to it with all the craziness going on in his personal life.

Time gets away from him like everything else in his life, his whole being functioning on autopilot. He manages at getting dressed and arriving at set fifteen minutes early. It’s an old habit he’s been holding onto for the last three years he’s been on this show; always being the one to arrive first.

He hopes by being here before the other coaches, he’ll get some time to retrieve into his trailer, hiding away much like he feels like doing for the next hundred days to come.

After that, it’s all much of a blur. Filming goes as planned; he’s professional, he cracks a smile every now and then—despite it being obviously less genuine, and by the time he’s gotten himself through the entirety of the episode, he feels both mentally and physically drained.

He’s not surprised when his co-worker and best friend follows him hastily back to his trailer. His eyes roll in their sockets when Adam closes the door behind them, having invited himself in. Blake’s body falls back into the couch, feeling flushed and tired.

“Adam, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Adam shrugs, sitting down next to Blake quickly. “Tough luck.”

It’s been crazy how fast they’ve managed to build such a deep friendship; the little shit has actually been a rock throughout this whole Hollywood adventure. Blake sits back some more, his teeth biting painfully into his bottom lip. He doesn’t even know where to start, or _how_ to, without completely falling to pieces.

“When are you going back?” Adam asks softly, his gaze evident on the side of Blake’s face.

“My flight leaves tomorrow morning.”

Adam nods, silence filling the room next. He’s glad his friend doesn’t try to break the quiet for a while, the silence actually cutting away at some of his rough edges. He also knows it’s nothing like his rock star friend to be this quiet, the guy always having some words ready for whatever situation. The severity of Adam’s worries for him must be at an all-time high, considering his unusual behaviour.

Blake finally manages at a genuine crack of a smile.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Blake muses back at his friend. “It’s almost like you’re afraid I’ll drink myself to death when you start talking.”

The punch to his shoulder is entirely expected. “That’s not funny, man.”

Blake chuckles. His friend is right too—it’s not.

Nothing about his life is funny at the moment and yet it’s the humour and lightness that he craves so much. He holds on to it for dear life, even when it’s not there.

“I knew it was coming, y’know?” Blake says softly, meeting his friend’s gaze in the next moment. “I knew our time was running out, I just never thought it would happen like _that_.”

Adam shifts, moving so he’s partially sitting on his left leg. “She’s an idiot, Blake. A complete idiot who didn’t know what she had when she had it.”

Blake shakes his head, the truth spilling from Adam’s lips a painful one, a statement that could be applied to multiple scenarios in his life.

“I messed up too, you know? I haven’t always been enough, I know that. But I never _ever_ stepped out on her.”

“I’ve known you for a little over three years and I already figured out you’re one of the most loyal, most positive people to have around you. I’d say that’s much more than enough.”

Despite Adam’s hopeful words, his heart just feels like it breaks into another million pieces, the look on his friend’s face showing him his pain is blatantly obvious. The worry in Adam’s eyes translates into the words he speaks next, hitting Blake with a torturous force.

“Have you talked to Gwen?”

Blake’s eyes widen before looking at his friend like he just grew two heads. He swallows roughly, his throat drying at the mention of her name.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

His dating history with Gwen had come up rather fast after he and Adam became close friends. The admiration and love his friend had for the blonde rocker made it hard _not_ to disclose, the information still enough to render Adam completely speechless. His friend is also aware of how deep his feelings for her run—having been saved by her numerous times, even while not being in each other’s lives.

“I’m just saying….” Adam starts carefully. “You’re not in a good place and it might do you some good to…. I don’t know, hear her voice or something.”

“I _know_ you’re not telling me I should call up my god damn ex-girlfriend, Adam.” Blake huffs out slightly outraged.

Adam shrugs like he didn’t just advised him the craziest idea, Blake’s eyes still wide.

“I know you’ve just gotten out of a super serious relationship and I’m not telling you to do anything stupid.” Adam counters, throwing his hands up. “I just thought by the way you’ve talked about her to me, that it might do you some good to hear from her again. Besides, with everything going on and all, and her possibly coming on as another coach…”

Though his friend means well, he doesn’t think he realizes just how much shit he’s just brought up, Blake’s throat closing at all the memories stinging there.

“The last time we saw each other didn’t quite go that well.” Blake revisits painfully. “We’re not on the best of terms, so I try not to even think about the latter.”

Adam sits up a bit more upright, the subject of Gwen an obviously intriguing one to him.

“And how long ago was that?”

Blake’s mind goes back to the last time he was intimate with her, grunting in frustration when he catches himself go straight to the more inappropriate parts of their meeting—forcing himself to think back to their painful splitting again, holding on to it for the sake of what he still has left in his life. Gwen not being one of them.

“Coming on four years.” Blake whispers.

“You’ve never talked to her since?” Adam retorts quickly, his eyebrow raised.

Blake swallows again roughly, Adam bringing up all the memories he’s tried so hard to suppress.

“Once.” Blake admits quietly, his gaze hitting the wall in front of him, not able to look his friend in the eyes any longer. “I called her to congratulate her with her pregnancy last year.”

It’s Adam’s turn to swallow roughly. “Okay, not gonna lie dude… _that’s_ awkward.”

Blake chuckles. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Adam throws his hands up again, clearing his throat. “So maybe my idea wasn’t the smartest…”

It’s the first time that night Blake’s able to laugh out loud, shaking his head profusely.

“You’d think I’d be used to your crazy ideas by now.”

“I like to keep you on your toes.”

Blake chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “I should probably head home, think about some things...”

He’s grateful when his friend doesn’t press him about his vagueness, realizing Adam is probably much aware of his inner turmoil. His friend gets up first, patting him on the shoulder twice.

“Don’t think _too_ hard.”

Blake swallows roughly, the meaning of Adam’s words right there in his eyes. He’s glad to have someone in his life, someone other than Gwen, who he can rely on when he’s here. The friendship he’s managed to develop with this guy one of the many miracles he’s experienced in life.

Blake doesn’t warrant Adam’s advice with a verbal response, instead he nods at him and waits for his friend to leave his trailer as he lets out a huge sigh. It’s hard to remember a time where things weren’t this damn complicated, a time where taking a breath didn’t feel this damn heavy.

*

His finger keeps glitching, barely reaching the ‘call’ button before retracting so fast, it feels almost like a flinch. Calling her used to be second nature to him and it causes his heart to ache in a way that he doesn’t understand. Finally obtaining the courage, he lets his finger slip over the single digit and presses.

He gets three rings of comfortable silence before she picks up.

“Blake?”

She skips the formalities, something in her voice telling him she’s not quite surprised at his call, but still feels nervous. He’s not faring much better, his throat painfully dry when he attempts at speaking words.

“Hey yeah, it’s me.”

He clears his throat; the words having come out scratchy and hoarse. He hears Gwen’s small chuckle, the silence that lingers afterwards enough to make her explain.

“You’re not excited to speak to me.” She states simply, letting her words drift off as the meaning of it is painfully loud and clear.

He rubs his face with his left hand before lowering his elbow on the kitchen table, leaning on it as he tries to ignore the bitter taste in his mouth.

“It’s weird.” He answers honestly, his voice soft, a wry and broken thing strung across his lips. “The whole situation is.”

If she were here, he’s sure she’d be looking down to the ground, avoiding his gaze as she curves those pretty lips up into a wry smile. He imagines the image in his mind so easily, everything about her still so vivid in his brain, never forgetting anything even when he so desperately wants to.

“Blake, I know this show means a lot to you. If you don’t want me there….” Her voice breaks at the insinuation, but he doesn’t tell her wrong, instead he waits her out. “If you don’t want me there, I’ll turn it down.”

Blake lets out a sigh, trying to think rational while all his brain wants to do is throw out selfish statements and harsh truths.

“Do you want to do it?” He asks instead, ignoring the string of words on the tip of his tongue.

“It could be nice.” She says softly, the smile on her lips audible to him in ways that will never not make him feel some type of way. “Getting to give back after all these years, doing something completely different…” She muses gently.

“It’s special.” He chimes in.

“Selfishly, I could also do with some distraction. Things aren’t….” She chokes up and suddenly his attention is onto something else but these negotiations. “…. Things aren’t that great right now, you know?”

He’s not prepared to talk about the parallels of their situation. He’s not capable of talking about someone else’s heartbreak when he’s sure that will result in questions about his.

He swallows roughly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Her voice sounds rough, like she’s desperately trying to convince herself and it’s a painful moment of recognition. “I spent the whole evening cuddling Kingston and for a few hours the whole world felt alright again.”

He smiles despite the envy he feels in his chest. Coming home to an empty home might be the worst thing about this split; he’s used to times apart with Miranda, he’s used to not being met with the same affection, even the tension hovering like a cloud above his head—he’s used to it all. What he’s not used to is his house not being shared anymore, for his things to not belong to someone else as well. 

“I can only imagine.” Blake says roughly, unable to keep the pain from his voice.

Though she doesn’t speak it, he can hear the apology in her voice.

“Blake, what do you want me to do?” Her straight forward question throws him off momentarily. “Tell me what you need.”

 _Tell me what you need_. He wonders if she realizes how broad that question is, how many things he actually needs. He needs to find a Saving Grace, he needs to throw all his bottles out, he needs to feel something other than heartbreak in his god’s forsaken life.

“I didn’t call you to tell you what to do, Gwen.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line, until her thin voice breaks it.

“Why _did_ you call me then?”

His voice cracks, so much need weighing down his words, and it’s the wrong thing to say, the worst decision he could probably make, but it’s the one thing he’s certain of, one thing that he knows is solid.

“To tell you that whatever you wanna do, you _should_ do. I don’t want to be the reason you pass up on something you’re excited about.”

Her silence terrifies him, has his system in a panic, not knowing whether the words he just spoke were too real, too vulnerable. Before he can get the breath back into his lungs to retract his statement, she’s finally talking again.

“Thank you.” She whispers, the hitching of her breath becoming obvious. “I wanna do this.”

He nods, not surprised to hear her say those words.

“I know you do.”

“I guess I’ll see you around then?”

He chuckles lowly, his eyes closing by default. “Guess you will.”

The whole thing feels surreal to him. Sitting here talking to Gwen on the phone again after nearly four years had passed, knowing he’ll be seeing her much more as she practically just took the gig that’s been his for the past three years.

He wills down all the emotions that threaten to come out, knowing he needs to save them for later tonight, when he’s on his own again.

“Blake?”

He lifts his head at the mention of his name, humming softly.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you again.”

He brushes it off quickly, not sure he can handle another thank you from her without bursting out in tears.

“You don’t have to thank me. This is business, you shouldn’t have to let that suffer because of our personal feelings.”

He can tell the sudden shift from personal to business mode hits her, but he’s grateful for how she decides to ignore it and not bring attention to it.

“Bye Blake.”

He skips a beat, torn between dreading the moment he’s left to his own devices again and needing her to hang up five minutes ago.

“Night, Gwen.”

 

*

_June, 2014_

 

He’s gone over the moment a thousand times in his head; he’s calm and collected in all of them, maintaining his composure and even turning away if he has to. This is the place that’s became his second home, and if he feels a little territorial because this show is  _his_  and not hers, so be it.

He half expected her to come in with an alarming sense of calmness, a complete disregard for everything that’s transpired between them, nothing more but the professional Gwen he knows she’s capable of being. He expected her arrival to be big, complete with glam team and huge entourage.

He’s surprised when the first sign of Gwen having made it to set, are the screams of a two-year old, before he feels something crash into his legs. Better yet,  _someone_.

He looks down to find the toddler giggly backing away from him, his neck straining as he looks up at the person attached to the leg he just barged into. Blake keeps an enthusiastic smile on his face, not wanting the child to pick up on any discomfort he feels towards his mom.

“Hey little buddy, you’re in a hurry or what?”

He crouches down to the kid’s level, surprised when the two-year-old reaches out and touches his hat. Without the acknowledgment, he would’ve forgotten about wearing it altogether— it being such an automatic thing now he puts on before leaving the house, a lazy attempt at taming—hiding—his wild curls.

“Hat!” The toddler squeals, the excitement seemingly getting to be too much. “I want!”

Blake’s about to give into the kid’s request, finding out quickly that he has Gwen’s eyes and it’s impossible to deny either one anything, before Gwen comes running in, slightly out of breath.

Aside from the worry in her eyes— he guesses the toddler ran off and scared the shit out of her— she looks divine as ever. She’s wearing skin tight jeans, a lacy black tank top that’s showing the entirety of her bra and those damn lips still red as ever. It’s like no time has passed, only a lot of it has.

Her eyes scan over Blake for a few moments before she shifts her attention to Kingston. Her arm lands gently on his small shoulder, pulling him away from Blake.

“King, what did I tell you? You can’t run off and let go of mommy’s hand.”

Blake takes the moment she disciplines her child as an opportunity to get up from his crouched position, his joints already starting to act up.

He straightens his back, waiting for Gwen’s acknowledgement once more.

“Hat mommy, hat!” His little finger points back at Blake, smiling widely up at him.

Blake can’t do anything but smile back, feeling a weird sense of pride over being on the receiving end of Kingston’s joy.

“But did you hear me, sweetheart?” Gwen tries again, turning her child so he’s looking straight at her. “You need to stay with me until I tell you otherwise.”

Finally, the child seems to calm down some, looking a bit defeated as he nods.

“Good.” She says sweetly, stroking a finger down his cheek to let him know all is good again. “Have you said hi to Blake yet or have you just been trying to steal his hat?”

It feels strange to hear her say his name again, and it feels even stranger to have her gaze on him longer now. She steps forward, waiting for Kingston to follow as he comes to stand before him again.

“I’m Kingston!”

Blake beams down at him, not exactly sure what it is that’s so incredibly endearing about the kid, but he finds himself absolutely stricken by it.

“It’s very nice to meet you buddy!” Blake gently ruffles his hair, earning him another giggle. “My name is Blake.”

“Sir Blake.”

Blake chuckles. “I appreciate your manners but Blake is just fine, kiddo.”

“Sir Blake.” Kingston repeats.

Letting out a little laugh, he lets it go, knowing he’s gonna get nowhere with it. Instead, he lets his eyes wander off to Kingston’s mom, who’s still standing back quietly as she watches their exchange.

“Gwen.” He says finally, simply acknowledging her presence.

She steps forward then, placing both hands on Kingston’s small shoulders.

“Hey bubs, you see that couch over there?” She points at a few feet behind them, causing the toddler to nod and grin widely in response. “I saw some toys over there.”

It doesn’t take much more for the kid to almost run off, before remembering his mom’s earlier words and standing still again. His eyes coming up to Gwen pleadingly.

She smiles gently in approval. “You can go, but stay there so mommy can see you, okay?”

Kingston nods enthusiastically before his little legs carry him over to the couch in the lounge area, which has indeed been made into a kid-friendly zone after all these years.

When they’re without the scrutiny of a little child, Gwen’s attention finally shifts to him fully, her features both ridden with nerves and excitement.

“Hi.” She says softly, a smile forming on her lips.

“Hi.”

“He likes you.”

The feeling creeps up at him again, a warmth spreading at the confirmation of her child’s liking to him.

“He seems like a great kid.”

Though he means the words, he finds it hard to make them sound convincing, his mind apparently set on wanting to give her the cold shoulder— keep her at arm’s length.

“He is.” She affirms with a smile, ignoring the way his words must’ve sounded. “It’s good to see you again.”

He’s used to this from her. Her everlasting honesty, though always on  _her_  terms,  _her_  timing.

Blake holds her gaze, nodding once.

“You’ll fit right in with the other coaches, it’s a good thing you’re here.”

It’s not a lie— he knows she’s a great asset to the show and her expertise is from great importance to these contestants. The look in her eyes shows that she was holding out for more though, and in any other scenario, he would’ve given her that.

But not in this one.

“Blake...”

“Plus you already know Pharrell and Adam is probably one of your biggest fans—this is a good thing.”

He doesn’t know who he’s trying to convince at this point, but her disappointed stare tells him he’s failing them both.

“I didn’t know if it was gonna be a problem, you know?” She says softly, her head lowering a little. “I mean, I know you told me it was fine and all, but that was over the phone and this is not. Obviously.”

She sounds nervous and unsure and if he could reach out and ease all these insecurities away, like he’s been able to do so many times before in the past, he would’ve.

“We’re all adults.” He settles on, keeping his eyes on her even when she avoids his. “It’s not like we’re forced to spent any time alone together. It’s good.”

She finally lifts her head to meet his gaze again, swallowing roughly.

“Yeah, right...” She bites her lip, something he remembers her doing as she physically bites back the words on the tip of her tongue. “It’s good.”

“Gwen— “

“Blake— “

They start at the same time, causing them both to look down. Blake eventually waves his hand as an indication for her to go first.

She takes another look behind her, making sure her kid is still where he said he would be, before turning her attention back to Blake.

“I know this is a bit weird, but I was hoping that maybe we could talk about things some time. After tapings.”

He shifts awkwardly on his feet, his chest inflating as he takes in a deep breath.

“I don’t see what there is to talk about Gwen.” He says steadily, though his heart feels anything but. “We have history, that’s it. We’re colleagues now and we can keep it professional. We see each other at work and other than that stay out of each other’s way.”

His words obviously upset her, her face not concealing anything.

“What happened to wanting to be friends?” She cracks out, her voice sounding raw to his ears.

“I think that ship has sailed.”

She nods painfully, her hand playing with her hair at the end of her ponytail.

“Good to know where you stand.”

His eyes subconsciously go over to the little boy playing on the couches behind him, his innocent smile reminding him of everything he once had and proceeded to lose, the sight too much all the sudden.

“It’s better this way.”

“ _Stop_.” She hisses, a hint of anger behind her words now. “Stop saying that it’s better or that things are good. They’re not, you and I both know it.”

“Okay then, Gwen.” He gives in finally, smoothing a hand down the back of his neck. “Things aren’t good, but they will be if we just maintain our space.”

“This was a mistake.” She huffs. “I should’ve known you weren’t really okay with this.”

He’s tempted to tell her she  _did_  know, she just pushed her luck and came up empty handed, but instead he sighs and steps back.

“I don’t mind you being here, Gwen.”

“You just don’t think we can be friends.”

He nods, his heart feeling heavy at the sight of Gwen so visibly shaken up, yet he can’t get himself to lower these walls for her, not even a little bit.

“We’ll be fine, Gwen, we always are.”

He knows he’s leaving her with nothing, but it’s the best he can do. Picking up on his sudden impatience, she lets him step back even more, not speaking up when he turns around to leave.

Letting his eyes wander off to Kingston once more, he suddenly remembers the little kid’s fascination with his hat, turning around once more to face Gwen.

His hand reaches for the accessory on his head, looking a bit hesitantly as he holds it out to Gwen. She looks a bit confused at first, her eyebrow raising.

“For the little guy.” He emphasizes, watching her eyes get a little teary as she takes it from him.

He doesn’t stick around long enough to watch her give it to Kingston, nor does he stay long enough for her to shove the hat back in his hands— for both he’s grateful.

*

 

“Shit, and I’m pretty sure we both know how that turned out now, don’t we?”

He feels himself quickly losing control while desperately trying to obtain it, his legs carrying him over the empty parking lot.

His colleagues had all left to go home by now, everyone having a family to go back to, except for him. Instead, he finds himself on the phone with his ex-girlfriend, which is draining way too much energy out of his body.

“I can’t have this conversation with you anymore, it’s over, you did that.”

Maybe he’s sounding childish in the way his voice is so rooted in accusation, but he has excused way too much already, closed his eyes to the truth one too many times, his heart unable to take any more.

“I caught you, Ran, for Christ’s sake. I don’t even want to think about the amount of times that I haven’t— that’s all there is to say.”

He hates how his heart still hurts a little bit when she starts crying on the other end of the line, his own eyes watering in the process.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes, his hand rubbing over his mouth and nose. “It’s too late, I’m gonna hang up now.”

He doesn’t wait for the inevitable protest, instead clicks her away right after the words escape his mouth. He takes a few deep breathes in before he feels someone’s presence coming up behind him.

He turns around to find Gwen looking at him apologetically, her fingers nervously fumbling with each other.

“I’m sorry.” Her soft voice comes. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

“How much of that did you hear?”

She winces a little. “More than you’re probably comfortable with.”

He chuckles lowly, his eyes focusing on something behind her, anything to not have to see that expression lingering in her eyes.

“I don’t know if there’s anything I  _am_  comfortable with these days.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?” She seems genuinely upset for him, her whole demeanour tuned into him.

“Gwen...” He warns.

“I heard some of what you said and as much as you hate it— I know you. I can tell you’re hurting and I just want to help.”

Though he knows the words are genuine and heartfelt, he can’t help but feel anger at them too.

“I’m not your responsibility anymore, Gwen.” He huffs a bit annoyed. “I don’t need you to make me feel better right now, okay?”

She looks a bit taken aback but doesn’t back down.

“Okay, so how about you let me  _not_  make you feel better? Better to be miserable together than miserable alone, no?”

He shakes his head, knowing he should walk away yet not being  _that_  strong.

“Don’t you have a kid to get back to?”

The question leaves her obviously pained, a hurt expression flashing over her features.

“Gavin just picked him up. It’s his week.”

An apology lays on the tip of his tongue but he swallows it down, though his features do soften a bit.

“Go home, Gwen. Sounds like we both need it.”

He finally finds the strength to turn on his heel, only for Gwen’s hand to reach out and effectively stops him. Her touch on his upper arm is nothing but friendly, yet his whole body reacts to it with goosebumps.

“Blake, please...” She pleads softly, walking around him so she comes to stand in front of him. “Please talk to me, let me be there for you.”

He pulls his arm out of her grasp, being met with minimal pull back.

“You want to be there for me or you want me to be there for _you_ since Gavin left? Cause if I remember correctly, that seems to have been a pattern.”

Her eyes widen, the words causing her to physically flinch.

“What?”

“I don’t need your pity, Gwen. And I sure as hell don’t need a repeat of what we had before.”

“Blake.” She exclaims breathy, offense and hurt seeping off her voice. “I didn’t...I want to be there for you because I care about you. I hate seeing you in pain.”

“Really?” He responds sarcastically, unsure if all the anger he feels is all hers to carry, yet he finds himself unstoppable of lashing out. “You sure had a funny way of showing that over the years.”

He can predict the moment her face starts breaking and it’s the moment she steps back too, lowering her gaze to the ground.

“You’re angry.” She states.

“You got that fucking right.” He affirms angrily. “I’m mad at my ex for fucking me over so many times I lost count and I’m angry for being back here with _you_ out of all people, I’m angry as hell Gwen.”

She nods, her voice only a small fraction of what it usually is.

“I don’t want to make anything worse.”

It’s his turn to nod now, his tongue poking against the inside of his cheek.

“Then give me this one thing.” He responds quietly, watching her find her bearings again as she looks up at him.

“Anything, Blake. What do you need?”

He makes sure to hold her gaze the entire time, his head spinning with all that’s wrong in his life right now.

“Keep this thing between us professional. We don’t need to be friends to be decent colleagues. That’s what I need.”

Her eyes well up, but she doesn’t let any of her tears escape, instead she calls him out.

“Why did you give Kingston the hat?” She asks suddenly, her watery eyes still holding his gaze.

“Did you leave it behind?” He asks half expectantly.

She shakes her head. “No, he loves it, I can’t do that to him.”

There’s a brief pause before she repeats her question to him.

“So why did you give it, Blake? Was it just a way to torture me? Make me have to look at it the whole time while you give me the cold shoulder?”

He shakes his head, her words unsettling him. He didn’t think about how that would affect her, his only motivation having been to make little child smile.

“I didn’t... no, I didn’t mean anything like that, Gwen. He just seemed so into it...”

“He’s into a lot of things.” She retorts. “Doesn’t mean he has to have it all.”

He waves his hand between them, suddenly a bit nervous.

“I don’t know, throw it away then, it was a mistake. Or just give it back.”

“Didn’t you hear me before?” She asks a bit more annoyed now, her patience slowly starting to slip. “I can’t take it away now; he already wouldn’t stop crying when I made him give it to me when his father picked him up.”

Blake’s eyes cast down now, finally breaking their gaze.

“I’m sorry.” This time he means it, his small action that was meant to suffice as a kind-hearted gesture, not all thought through.

“You wanna be just colleagues, keeping it professional? Then don’t do shit like that, Blake.”

“I already said I was sorry, Gwen. What else do you want me to do?”

She walks closer to him again, her hand laying gently on his chest, cutting him off when his warning comes.

“I want you to be happy, Blake.”

He shakes his head, trying to shake her arm off his body, but she just moves with him.

“But if space is what you need right now, I’ll give you that. But Blake...” She breathes, her eyes still teary. “You don’t have to do this all alone. I’m still here for you.”

Knowing he’s pretty much immune to her words, he closes his eyes and lets them consume him for a few moments. He eventually pulls away and she lets her arm go limp and fall back to her side.

“Good night, Gwen.”

Her only response is a pained smile, and he wonders if she’s aware of how badly he _still_ wants to kiss it off her.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware Shakira wasn't actually an advisor on season 7 of the Voice. With that said, this story is AU and doesn't follow the exact timeline or events. Also worth mentioning; Gwen only has one child in this story, Kingston. 
> 
> We're nearing the end of Love, Me, so I promise a happy ending is coming soon! Thanks to everyone who left a comment on the previous chapter--the feedback is greatly appreciated.

_July, 2014_

 

He’s been pleasantly surprised at the amount of times he’s been able to crack a smile today, his ex-colleague making it hard for him _not_ to feel something resembling amusement. The show has been his saving Grace in many ways, the connections he’s been able to make with artist he’s never considered as potential friends, one of the many blessings.

“You make people feel welcome.” She gushes in her signature accent, her shoulder bumping into his side.

One thing he greatly underestimated once he started working here was the spaciousness of Universal Studios. The backstage area is much bigger than anything else he’s ever worked at, and he smiles at his unusual friend as they make their way back to the coaches’ lounge.

“Are you saying you’re surprised to see I’m actually nice to my team?” Blake beams, smirking down at the petite woman smiling next to him, the clicking of her heels loud in his ears.

She shakes her head.

“No, of course not.” Her reply is genuine and he forgets sometimes how genuinely sweet she is—his banter reciprocated until a certain extent, until her kindness wins out.

He’s momentarily distracted when he’s faced with Gwen as they make their way around the corner. He hasn’t seen much of her, despite filming with her again. There’s a heaviness that presses against his chest suddenly, the look on her face betraying she feels it too.

He’s once again glad for his friend to be there to provide the much-needed distraction; oblivious to the internal struggle of the two ex-lovers.

“I was surprised at how much they wanted to learn from me though.” Shakira says, turning her head to Blake. “I’m obviously not a country artist.”

He laughs at that, way too loudly too. “No you’re not. You’re freakin’ Shakira though, I highly doubt they give a damn about what genre you sing.”

His gaze involuntarily seeks out Gwen, who passed them without much of a word, a soft and sweet greeting to Blake’s advisor the only thing she let slip before sitting down on one of the couches. He watches as she’s focused on something on her phone, yet he can tell she’s not completely zoned out from the conversation happening behind her.

The moment his eyes advert back to Shakira, she makes a move for one of the high bar tables in the back. He follows comfortably, smirking as she looks at him expectantly.

“I think I deserve a drink.”

“ _Now_ you’re speaking my language, woman.” He murmurs playfully.

Both his elbows are leaning on the small table in front of him, waiting for his friend to come back with her drink, his eyebrows raising when she does.

“What?” He asks mischievously.

She shrugs. “You’ve been in an awfully good mood, that’s all. I kinda figured you’d be…you know?”

He bites his lip, the awkwardness of her question getting overshadowed by the innocence in which she asked.

“What, you figured I’d be an angry drunk with a horrible attitude?” He cocks his head a little, smiling when her facial expression silently confirms his hypothetical. “I save that for when I’m home.”

He feels Gwen’s stare on him before he looks to the side to actually see it, his heart still beating a bit faster when she’s visibly taking notice of him.

“You’re such an idiot.” Shakira jokes, playfully slapping his shoulder.

He’s relieved when she plays it off like a joke, deciding against diving into the subject deeper. His relief doesn’t last too long, ending abruptly when the feisty Colombian turns her attention to Gwen.

“Good luck handling this guy’s jokes 24/7.”

He watches Gwen bite her lip softly, lowering her phone to her lap. “I think he’s actually been saving his best ones for you.”

There’s a hint of something he can’t quite place in her voice, her face remaining neutral though. Shakira doesn’t seem to pick up on any underlying feelings, and instead chuckles.

“These were your best?”

And suddenly both women divert their full attention back to him. His demeanour softens when he looks over at his friend, a flicker of amusement eliciting in his gaze.

“I didn’t hit you with my inappropriate ones yet, that must be it.” He smiles.

She rolls her eyes at him hard, laughing nervously. “I don’t think I want _those_ jokes.”

“But you want me?” He counters with a faux-hopeful raise of his brow.

She gaps before erupting into giggles. “How the hell did you get _that_ out of what I just said?”

He hates himself for looking back at Gwen, the way she chuckles bitterly before turning her gaze back to her phone doesn’t go unnoticed. Maybe he’s pushing her buttons a little, taking his flirtatious nature a bit further than he usually would’ve, but too much has happened for him to care in this moment.

“My daddy used to tell me wishful thinking was the first step to a successful life.”

Stepping away from the table they’re both leaning on, she makes her way to his side before putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Very, _very_ wishful thinking.”

Blake brings a hand to his heart, pretending to nearly suffer a heart attack.

“Now you’re just breaking my heart.”

Right before Shakira can open her mouth to respond, Gwen’s voice cuts through the silence as her phone starts ringing. She looks at the two adults apologetically, before heading for the exit to take her call. She lets her gaze linger on Blake a little bit longer than usual, her eyes portraying a layer of sadness and maybe even anger, and it unsettles him despite his earlier thoughts.

What’s even more unsettling is the way her tired eyes still manage to shine for him.

He’s always known that relationships are work and he’s always been willing to put in whatever effort necessary. But shouldn’t some parts be effortless? Isn’t loving someone also supposed to be easy? It’s unsettling to say the least that the only one who’s been able to elicit those types of feelings from him, is the one he asked to take her distance, the one who hastily rushes off somewhere to take a call. 

 

*

 

“I don’t think I’ve smiled this much in years.”

Blake chuckles, his body sagging back into the comfortable sofa in the backstage area.

Adam’s laugh is loud, the playful slap on his shoulder fully expected. “You know it makes you rude for laughing at someone’s accent, right?”

He turns to look at his friend, rolling his eyes. “That’s not why I’ve been smiling, you dipshit.”

Adam shrugs. “I don’t even understand why she gets along with you in the first place.”

“Doesn’t everyone though?” Pharrell chimes in rather innocently, debunking Adam’s freshly made point. Blake nods his head towards him in gratitude.

“Finally someone with sense.” He turns to look at Gwen who’s sitting back rather quietly, not engaging in the conversation, which is a strange thing in its own. “I think you’re just jealous, Adam—Shakira and I have always gotten along better than you and her did.”

Adam holds his heart, a look of faux-offense dripping from his features. “You literally don’t understand what she’s saying ninety-nine percent of the time.”

“What’s your point?” Blake deadpans, a smug smile forming on his lips.

It feels good to be able to be a little playful again, some of that genuine joy he used to feel at being at this place returning to him while he banters back and forth with his friends and colleagues.

He can’t help but steal a few glances at Gwen though, her usual energy at an all-time low, her smile only reaching her lips but never her eyes and her voice lacking its usual finesse. She might be fooling her other colleagues, but he knows her too well to _not_ grow a little worried.

She’s been keeping her word lately, giving him the space he’d asked for, being nice to him while filming but leaving him alone whenever they weren’t. It wasn’t ideal, definitely wasn’t easy, but it’s what he asked for and she was honouring that.

He knows about her divorce _obviously_ — the whole world does— but seeing her this uncharacteristically down makes him realize how little he actually  _knows_  about it. His plea for distance had made it so they haven’t been able to talk at all; part of him feels bad for not having been there for her, despite seeing her obvious struggle in front of him. His own heart is just too beaten and bruised for him to feel like he has anything left to give.

The times he’s seen her with Kingston behind the scenes have been the only times he’s witnessed her genuinely smiling, the love for the little boy joyfully apparent. He realizes he hasn’t seen him for a few days either, which might have something to do with her mood being so off these days.

Their moment is cut short when Pharrell’s the first one to get up and go home and he’s suddenly reminded of how there are still people who have someone to get home to, not willing to spend all their off time hanging around on set. Adam follows soon after. It’s almost inevitable that he finds himself retreating into his trailer for most of the remaining night, and if he weren’t so damn familiar with self-pity these days, he’d laugh at his own pathetic-ness.

He pours himself a final drink, making it his mission to throw out the bottle tomorrow. He’s got enough of those at home, without keeping full ones in his trailer too. By the time he’s ready to go home, he’s hit with another revelation.

He’s used to being the last one to leave set these days, and he’s finding out Gwen’s lights in her trailer don’t go out much earlier than his. He wants to check up on her, his earlier worries coming back in full force, torn between standing his ground or standing on hers.

Perfectly—or imperfectly— timed, she comes stumbling out of her dressing room at the same time he’s contemplating on walking up the small steps, stopping herself before crashing into him.

“Blake?” She whispers, her eyes red and puffy. “What are you doing here?”

Taking in her tired and emotional frame, he finds himself with the overwhelming urge to wrap her up in his arms, nearly combusting at the seams as he contains himself.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He offers gently.

She laughs softly, her gaze lowering to the ground as she sniffles.

“You were about to knock on my trailer.”

He swallows loudly, realizing there’s no point in denying the obvious.

“I was thinking about it, yeah.”

“Why?” She retorts immediately. “You’ve made it pretty clear we should leave each other alone.”

Moving a bit awkwardly on his feet, he moves so his hand is holding onto the railing, Gwen still standing at the top of the steps, making no move to come down.

“You haven’t been yourself lately. I was worried.”

Her face suddenly turns stoic, unimpressed with what she’s hearing.

“Since when do you care?”

“Gwen— “

“No I’m serious.” She cuts him off, her arms crossing over her chest protectively, or defiantly, he’s not quite sure. “You’ve been ignoring me for the past few weeks, you’ve barely looked my way, hell you even made it your mission today to flirt in front of me, but  _now_  you’re suddenly worried?”

“Flirt....Gwen, she’s my friend.”

“And what am I?” She spats. “Your colleague, your enemy, your bitch of an ex-girlfriend? Honestly, what are you trying to do to me?”

Her words, as clear as they are, surprise him. The force and volume in which she speaks them do too.

“What are you talking about, I’ve told you— “

“You’ve told me I needed to back off and I did.” She interrupts again, her voice suddenly breaking with emotion. “But you can’t stand here and say you’re worried about me in the same breath. I’m barely hanging on as it is and I need to... I can’t do this; you can’t pull me in and push me away at the same time. Please, _please_ don’t do that to me.”

She started crying somewhere along her little word vomit, his heart breaking as she’s in the process of shattering every wall of hers again, leaving her with nothing but her heart on her sleeve and beyond vulnerable.

“Gwen, hey, look at me.” He says softly, trying not to match the intensity in which she’d just spoken to him. “None of that is what I’m trying to do.”

She rubs her eyes once, but the effort is in vain as the tears keep coming.

“You’re confusing me and it’s scaring me right now,  _you’re_  scaring me.”

The words hurt him more than he’s able to let on, feeling them like a physical punch to the gut. This is the same woman who he once swore to protect, to make feel safe for as long as he’d know her.

“I don’t want to confuse you and I definitely don’t mean to scare you.” He explains gently. “Gwen, you should go home, get some sleep.”

She shakes her head furiously, her breath catching. “The house is empty, there’s nothing there for me but fucked up memories and a bunch of broken vows.”

Though he understands the feeling, he tries again at trying to get her out of here.

“So you’re just gonna spend the night here? Come on, darlin’.”

The pet name escapes him before he knows it, wincing a little as Gwen takes notice and looks up at him.

“I don’t want to go home yet.” She whispers, her eyes holding his gaze.

He sighs before giving in, motioning for her to walk back inside as he follows her in. The lights are still on, her clothes and stuff scattered around the large area, while a blanket is propped into the corner of the couch.

“Gwen have you been sleeping in here?”

She shrugs, turning her back on him as she makes her way back to the couch.

“Not the whole night— I went home obviously.”

“ _When_?” He pushes, letting his eyes roam across the disrupted room, so different from the usually organized Gwen.

“Late.” She responds shortly, her voice breaking again.

He decides against sitting down next to her, making sure he keeps a safe distance between them as he settles for leaning against the vanity in front of her.

“You need proper rest.”

“I need the last nine years of my life to not be true, I need my baby back with me. I don’t need fucking rest, Blake.”

He ignores her outburst, looking at her silently.

She shakes her head, smoothing down a hand over her hair, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lash out.”

He shrugs. “I’ve heard worse.”

He watches as Gwen takes a few moments to compose herself afterwards, trying to keep her emotions in check long enough to have a decent conversation with him.

"You seem happier." She states softly, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. 

"I'm not."

She swallows roughly before forcing a small smile on her lips. "So it's all an act to impress your new friend?"

Her voice sounds strained and dry, a juxtaposition to the sound of his own voice.

"I can still laugh even when I'm not happy, just like I can still cry when I am."

"I didn't mean-"

"It's not an act."

He keeps his eyes on her, unwavering. 

"You've been flirting with her pretty heavily." She chokes out, breaking their gaze as hers wanders to the wall next to him. 

It feels juvenile to say the least, the way his body fills with pride suddenly. It's not like he's unaware of the tension between them still, nor is he oblivious to the feelings that remain between them, but knowing she's not even capable of pretending not to be affected by him possibly being interested in someone else, stirs something deep inside of him. 

"I'm single." He reminds her. 

"She's not." 

Blake chuckles, his head cocking slightly. "We're just friends."

"I'm sorry..." She clear her throat a few times, words becoming increasingly harder to speak. "You don't have to explain yourself to me."

He's tempted to say she's right, to agree with her wholeheartedly, but something about her crumbling demeanour causes him to bite his tongue. 

"Gwen, you should go home, get some sleep."

“I’m not the only one who’s going home late.” She says pointedly, wiping away some of her tears that started to fall at the prospect of going home.

“Don’t really like LA. Hate my rental.”

He’s just as short with her as Gwen was before, not feeling like diving into the subject too deeply, not sure how he’s ever gonna get himself to leave the damn set if he does.

“That phone call I overheard a few weeks ago...” She starts carefully.

“She cheated.” He finishes for her, letting the blunt and honest words settle between them. “A shitload of times, but I caught her the last time. It’s over but she’s stubborn, takes a few times to get the message across.”

He watches her swallow roughly, her eyes tearing up again, unable to hear the words without a physical reaction emerging.

“Blake, I’m....” He’s grateful when she swallows down the apology she was about to speak, having heard way too many of those recently. “It’s the worst feeling— you don’t deserve it.”

He wants to ask if that’s the reason for her divorce too, but of course it is; the fucker never had the decency to stay faithful to her and despite her wishful thinking, Blake never wondered  _if_  he’d do it again, only  _when_.

“How many times?” He asks instead.

She laughs bitterly, looking up at him in a moment of intimidating transparency.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if there has ever been a time where he  _hasn’t_  stepped out on me.”

He swallows. “Only times you didn’t know about.”

“Ignorance is bliss, right?”

He winces, squinting his eyes.

“You don’t mean that.”

She’s wiping away tears again, her posture becoming more defensive. “I have Kingston, he’s his dad, I wanted to make it work.”

“You’ve always wanted to make it work with him.”

“I thought things would be different once we’d get married.”

He shakes his head, his heart hurting because of the conversation he’s currently having, for the woman who’s sitting before him so broken, for his own pain.

“That’s not how it works.”

She bites her lip, talking through her soft cries.

“Is that why you never got married to Miranda?”

“I was waiting for things to get better, I thought my feelings for her would intensify once they would.” He explains, speaking the words physically hurting his throat. “I was gonna hold out until I felt what I know I was capable of feeling. That feeling I’ve only had once before in my life and then never again.”

He looks at her when he speaks his admission, her face crumbling as the meaning hits.

She’s off the couch and up on her feet in the next moment, slowly making her way over to where he’s standing.

“Gwen don’t...”

She walks closer until she’s capable of laying her head against his chest, not moving and inch as she stands against him, breathing in his scent.

“I’m sorry.” She breathes, her arms coming around his waist as she holds onto him tighter than he’s ever remembered her doing. “I’m so sorry I hurt you, Blake.”

Despite having the urge to wrap his arms around her, he can’t get himself to physically do so. He lets her lean against him, take what she needs, but it’s not what she wants.

“I know what you’re doing and you don’t have to.” She says softly against his chest, her doe eyes looking up at him. “This isn’t just for me.”

Closing his eyes against her words, he shakes his head.

“Gwen I can’t.”

“What happened to you wasn’t right.” She presses, her hand fisting the back of his shirt. “None of it. You’ve been hurt by love way too many times while all you do is give it.”

He feels his eyes burning, the press of tears collecting there painfully present.

“Maybe I don’t.”

She shakes her head. “You do, Blake. My god you do.”

“ _Gwen_...”

“Hold me.”

The amount of times he’s been denied affection like this by his ex-girlfriend haunts his present memories, Gwen’s soft pleas for intimacy enough to make him choke up, swallowing down the growing lump in his throat.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.” He whispers, his arms still not making a move to hold her, to touch her.

“You’re holding on.” She answers sweetly, some of her tears now creating a wet spot on his shirt.

Her words ring true on many levels; he’s holding on despite his heartache threatening to tear him to pieces, he’s holding on to life while he’s thinking about ways so he doesn’t have to live it. She’s pleading for him to hold on to her so she can give him reasons to keep standing, to keep him grounded.

That’s when he loses the fight with his brain, his heart taking over as his arms wrap around her, pulling her closer into him. He swears he can feel her smile against him, but he doesn’t say anything. Neither does she.

He thinks he might be crying, but he’s not sure, his cheeks don’t feel wet, though he’s not actively trying to keep the tears at bay. He wants to say he’s stronger, he wants to not be effected by Gwen’s touch anymore—but holding her like this brings every raw feeling to the surface, even ones he’d rather not think about.

“When do you get Kingston back?”

The question is random as it penetrates the silence, but Gwen’s little laugh as she thinks about her baby boy shows him he made the right call.

“Tomorrow.”

He can’t help but smile a bit at her obvious relief, rubbing her back gently.

“That’s good.”

“More than good.” She retorts.

He’s always wanted kids, the moment it became clear Miranda didn’t want them was the moment he started feeling like maybe this wasn’t all gonna work out in the end. No matter how hard he tried, obstacles kept stacking up and it became harder and harder to sacrifice that wish for her.

Hearing Gwen talk about her child makes him both love her more and resent her at the same time, there being no in between.

“Your house won’t be empty anymore then.”

Her house won’t be, but his will and all the sudden he’s retracting from her again, gently forcing her to take a step back and untangle her arms from his waist.

“Blake what— “

“It’s getting late and we both need some sleep.”

He can see she wants to fight it, but something in his eyes must portray serious dedication as she complies rather easily.

“Can we talk tomorrow?” She asks carefully, keeping the distance he just created.

“We’ll see each other, yeah.”

His walls are all the way up again; as hard as it was to let her back in a little, as easy as it is to shut her all the way out again.

She nods. “Right.”

“Gwen, I can’t give you what you want right now. Maybe someday, but I just... it’s all messed up in my head right now and I can’t handle...”

“Me.” She finishes on a whisper. “You can’t handle me.”

“I can’t handle  _us_.” He corrects her. “I can’t handle a relationship as complex as ours.”

“I want to show you an easier way, Blake.”

He smiles ruefully at her, not quite knowing what to say to that without breaking her heart, so he opts to stay quiet.

She takes his silence as her cue to speak up again, her eyes boring straight into his soul as she speaks with a determination he hasn’t heard from her often.

“I  _will_  show you an easier way, Blake. For us both— we deserve it.”


	19. Chapter 19

_August, 2014_

 

“Blake, you don’t have to— “

Her voice is cut off by the toddler grabbing onto his t-shirt, demanding Blake looks down at the toy figures in his hands before shoving them all on his lap. Blake can’t help but smile through the kid’s enthusiasm, even as he winces at the force in which the toys get thrown against his crotch, something he never thought he’d have to deal with for sure.

“It’s okay.” He eases Gwen’s worries while trying to gently coax the toddler into settling down on the couch next to him, his eyebrows raising.

“Is this a donkey?”

He knows full well the response he’ll get, the purposely misidentifying of the plastic animal in his lap causing Kingston to fall into a fit of giggles, his little hand surprisingly strong as it grabs onto Blake’s arm again.

“Horsey, Blake, look!”

Blake pretends to look the toy over discreetly, looking it up and down, squinting his eyes a little.

“Nah, I don’t see it.” He pushes playfully, pushing the toy back into Kingston’s hand. “I think it’s a donkey.”

He can see Gwen biting her lip, trying to disguise the smile from her baby boy who’s growing a bit frustrated. He knows she didn’t mean to have Kingston spend time with him today, but apparently neither the nanny or Gwen are able to keep the little guy contained to just one spot, and for some reason the kid seems drawn to Blake, though he has no clue as to why that is.

He does know that there’s a certain connection he feels to the child, despite not knowing the last thing about him. Maybe it’s the connection he has with his mother that’s really the root of his fondness, or maybe it’s the fact he’s always held out hope to one day become a father himself. Though he understands Gwen’s reluctance when it comes to letting them spend time together, he won’t ever pretend it’s something he hates.

He lets the child use his lap as his personal playground, the occasional pain of the plastic toys landing slightly too hard on his legs made worth it by Gwen’s loving stare. He wonders why it seems to get to her so much, the sight surely not something she’s never seen before.

Maybe she’s like everyone else in his life, and it’s just the sight of _him_ with a child that surprises her so much.

“ _Blake_?” Gwen’s voice lets him know she’s been calling his name for a while, his gaze following hers down to Kingston’s outstretched hand.

“Sorry buddy, what?”

He swallows roughly, being yanked out of his thoughts before he could realize he’d drifted off.

“Hand, Blake!”

Blake reaches out his hand for the toddler to grab and he winces a little when the kid pulls himself up into his laps, both legs balancing on each of his thighs.

“Be careful with Blake, bubba.”

Gwen’s voice is soft and slightly apologetic, her facial expression a mirror of what he hears.

He smiles gently. “It’s okay, I got it.”

He realizes he might’ve spoken too soon when Kingston bounces a little _too_ hard—he’s pretty sure he pulled a muscle in that moment.

“Still okay?” Gwen’s voice cuts through the silence as she takes a seat next to him on the couch. He lets his gaze fall over her once more, cocking his head a little.

“You know, if you’re worried about me hanging out with him, you can just say so…”

He can tell his precise acknowledgement of her worries was unexpected, her smile fading a bit as it makes place for a more pained expression.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, the corners of her lips curving up a little. “You’re good with him.”

His gaze goes back to the toddler currently still standing in his lap.

“He’s a ball of energy.” Blake smiles, chuckling. “Must’ve gotten that from you.”

“Hmmmm.” She hums in agreement. “It’s my karma.”

“Sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”

He didn’t mean to let his silent admission slip, but he doesn’t waste any time trying to backtrack either. He feels the burn of her stare on the side of his face, not at all surprised when she responds to it.

“You would’ve made an awesome dad.”

He chuckles again, the sound a painful and bitter thing. “It wasn’t meant to happen, I guess.”

He finally finds the strength to look at her, the look on her face matching what he feels inside. He only breaks their gaze when his thighs start screaming out for help and he gently eases the kid of his lap, apologizing when the child looks two seconds away from crying.

“Sorry little man.” Blake ruffles his hairs a bit for good measure, smiling when Kingston returns the gesture with a giggle. “Between you and the _donkey_ , I think my body is too bruised for much else.”

The kid’s high pitched response is completely expected and he hears Gwen groan next to him.

“HORSE BLAKE”

“Blake _please_.” Gwen chuckles quietly, starting to feel bad for her child apparently.

When Kingston comes back with the toy and pretty much pushes it against his eye, he finally concedes. Partially because of Gwen’s soft plea, and partially because making a little kid cry is not in his schedule for today.

“I guess you were right buddy, my bad.” The relief on the two-year-old’s face is enough to make him feel slightly guilty. “It’s a horse—a beautiful horse.”

Gwen shoots him a look of gratitude, one that he files up as one of his favorite looks of hers.

Kingston settles in between the two adults, his attention back on all the toys on his lap, and it gives Blake the opportunity to intensely stare at them both. It’s a surreal picture, something he never thought he’d see; Gwen and her kid, both in arms-reach. It’s damn near perfect, aside from everything that’s wrong about it.

“You really believe you weren’t meant for this?” Gwen’s soft voice asks, her eyes going from Kingston’s small frame to his, a certain sadness pooling in his eyes.

He’s not prepared for the feelings that question brings up, his shoulders shrugging. “It never happened, did it?”

She shakes her head softly, almost like she’s just now hit with something.

“I never even knew you wanted kids…”

He huffs, the taste of blood filling his mouth as he bites on his tongue too hard.

“There’s quite a lot you didn’t stick around for.”

He hears the intake of her breath, the sharpness of her gasp cutting him deeply.

“ _Blake_.”

Realizing he literally threw that back in her face with her kid sitting right there, he pushes himself up on his feet, looking anywhere but at her. He’s grateful to see Kingston still enticed with his toys, not paying any attention to the tension brewing between the two ex-lovers.

“I need to go.” He hears himself say, his hand raking through his hair. “I’ll see you later, Gwen.”

He doesn’t turn around to see the look in her eyes, knowing it for sure would’ve broken his heart, which is something he doesn’t need any more of. It feels slightly cowardly to walk always after lashing out the way he did, but there’s an underlying feeling of justification settling in his chest too.

She didn’t stick around long enough for her to find out about what he wanted, she didn’t give him the chance to proof why he would’ve been a much better husband for her—much better father to her child.

He can’t do anything but remind himself.

She didn’t stick around.

 

 

*

 

He’s not expecting anyone to show up at his place. Not just because of the unusual hour, but mostly because he doesn’t exactly have the biggest social circle here in LA. The knock on his door startles him to say the least, his guilt starting to gnaw at him when he feels the slight tremble of his legs while walking towards the front door. He hadn’t even drunk as much as he usually would, but apparently, his body is starting to protest to the lack of sleep and overload on alcohol.

As unsteady as the booze made him feel before, the feeling intensifies when he opens the door to find Gwen standing on his doorstep.

“Gwen.” Her name falls from his lips on a soft exhale, too tired to keep his cold façade up. “Why are you here?”

She swallows roughly while letting her eyes roam subtly up and down his body.

“I figured you weren’t feeling too good by how you rushed out of there. I also figured you weren’t gonna call me, so I thought I’d swing by and see for myself.”

Her honesty is refreshing and makes his head spin at the same time. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.” She shrugs, biting her lip. “I wanted to though.”

He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s slightly tipsy or because she came all this way just to make sure he was okay, but he can’t help but let the endearment slip.

“You look stunning.”

She’s wearing much of the same as she did on set right before he left; tight leggings with an oversized t-shirt that illustrated a band he wasn’t familiar with. The only difference is her hair that’s now sitting in a messy bun, and her make-up undeniably less.

She ducks her head to hide the blush his words evoke, unprepared for the way a simple compliment still gets to her. There’s that sincerity in his voice that he’s been trying to hide from her ever since she came back into his life and there’s a certain reverence swimming in the blue of his eyes, that makes this compliment hit harder.

“Thank you.” She breathes, her voice a bit unsteady as she takes in his words.

“I mean it.”

He has no idea why he’s pushing her _now_ out of all moments, his words escaping him before he has the strength to stop them. She’s blushing furiously now and he can tell she’s thinking of ways to steer the conversation away from her.

“Tell me how you’re doing Blake, are you okay?”

He glances down to his shoes suddenly, some of the light that came back to him at complimenting Gwen leaving his eyes again.

A heavy fog trickles through his chest, and he’s surprised when she extends her hand and brushes against his wrist.

“Blake?” His eyes snap back to her at the sound of his name slipping from her mouth, flickering down to the tips of her fingers on his skin. “Can I come in?”

He nods softly, a part of him saddened by how weird it feels to have her here again. He uses his arm to urge her inside, breaking all physical contact as she steps in front of him and he goes to close the door behind them. If he’d been paying attention, he could’ve spotted the obvious disappointment the loss of contact brought on.

“I hope you don’t mind the mess.” He says apologetically, wincing a little as he realizes the state in which he left the place. “I wasn’t exactly expecting company.”

“That’s okay.” She replies softly, smiling as he nods towards the couch, indicating she could sit down. He walks into the kitchen, coming back with a bottle of beer for the both of them, holding it out for her to take. She does so quickly, smiling gently. “Thank you.”

“I know you’re not really a beer person, but I’m afraid it’s all I have at the moment.”

He sits down next to her quietly, his eyes roaming over her body even though he keeps a respectable distance between them. She acknowledges his words with a soft nod, but doesn’t give him a verbal response. They sit like that for what feels like hours, just letting the silence take over before Gwen finally has enough.

“You didn’t answer my question, you know...”

He furrows his brow, looking at her. “What question?”

“Are you okay?”

He tries not to laugh at her, knowing it’s a ridiculous question. Instead, he recognizes how her face is riddled with nerves, how she’s openly putting her uncertainty and vulnerability on display. Despite all his other feelings, he can’t do anything but respect that.

“I’ve been better.”

She exhales long and heavy through her nose and stares down at her hands. He can see her fighting the urge to reach out for him again and he’s almost disappointed when she doesn’t.

“Why didn't you talk to me?” She asks suddenly, letting her gaze fall on him once more. “I mean I know you wanted your space and all, but I’m here Blake, I can help.”

“And how would you do that?” He inquires, watching her swallow roughly.

“By just being there for you, Blake.” She replies softly, shaking her head. “The same way we’ve done for each other before.”

“And why would that be enough to make me feel better?” He pushes, holding her gaze.

She shifts a little closer and he pretends not to notice her proximity or the way her sweet but exotic scent suddenly floods his senses, the way a subtle hint of cherries fills the air between them.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be enough, Blake.” She says, her voice slightly cracking. “But don’t you think it would’ve been better than being on your own, going through everything by yourself?”

He shakes his head, emotion settling defiantly in his throat.

“You seem to forget how every moment with you has ended with a goodbye. I’ve had enough of those to last me a goddamn lifetime, Gwen.”

“You deserve better.”

She whispers the words so softly he has to strain his ears to catch her soft words.

“Can’t undo the past, right?”

She slides even closer to him and his initial reaction is to move away, but something about her tentative hand settling on his shoulder keeps him seated.

“I should’ve called more, should’ve visited, _anything_ , but….” She shakes her head as her eyes visibly well up. “God, I’ve missed you so much.”

Every wall that’s in place to keep her out feels like it’s shaking, on the verge of collapsing, and it frightens him more than anything. Her words feel good to hear, but he’s also painfully aware of how little too late he’s hearing them.

“You got married…” He muses. “You…. got pregnant.”

She nods softly, her hand on his shoulder tightening slightly. “I did. I still missed you though.”

“Not enough I guess.”

“Blake….” She breathes, her hand smoothing along the collar of his shirt now. “I’ve done so many things I’ve regretted later, but losing you…. that will always be my biggest one.”

“What if he hadn’t left you?” He rasps lowly, biting his lip as he watches her heart break in front of him. “What if you got to the Voice still happily married—would you have been here now, consoling me?”

She inhales deeply, her breath stuttering out brokenly.

“I would’ve.”

He shakes his head, a wry smile forming on his lips. “I don’t think you would’ve.”

For a moment, he thinks she’s gonna up and leave, the silence that follows an awkward one. When she makes a move to shift away from him and off the couch, his suspicions get somewhat confirmed. That’s until she’s moving to stand in front of him, her body lowering until she’s sitting on her knees before him, her hands holding on to his legs.

“I made so many mistakes; I left you when I got scared, I let you back in when I should’ve known better for the both of us….” She shakes her head as she’s listing off her most painful mistakes, taking another deep breath before she lets out the final one. “I married someone who never treated me with a fraction of the kindness you did, all because I thought it was the safer choice, because I thought I could change him and turn him into something better.”

His heart is beating painfully loud against his chest, his hand itching to reach out for her, but he refrains from doing so entirely.

“I was prepared to be that for you, Gwen.”

“I know.” She retorts immediately, her thumb starting to softly rub circles on his knee. “You saw me so differently from everyone else, you hardly knew about the rest of me— “

“I knew enough.” He shrugs, interrupting her before she could finish the lie that was about to pass her lips. “Extraordinary, remember? I knew that much.”

Her breath catches, subtle but sharp. “Blake— “

“I knew what I wanted.”

“You got into another relationship too.”

“You wanted me to wait around for a girl who was dead set on marrying someone else?”

He realizes what he just let slip with his question, rivalling for dominance in the ever-changing pools of hazel in her eyes, and he can finally see the moment for what it is. This is another chance for them both, the first _real_ one he’s had in a long while.

“You wanted to marry me?” She whispers.

He can see her eyes filling to the point of it burning in his own, not surprised to see the first stray tear make its way down her cheek.

“I knew what I wanted.” He repeats, letting the meaning of his words settle over her. Her teeth bite down on her bottom lip, causing his already racing heartbeat to trip and stumble into his ribs. “It scared me sometimes, how much I wanted you.”

She takes a few seconds before lifting herself up into a standing position again, moving impossibly close to him, her hand moving to the side of his face as she hovers over him.

“What are you doing?” He chokes out quietly, the feeling of her thumb softly grazing the spot right below his lips almost too much for him.

“Blake….” She urges him softly, waiting for his eyes to focus on her. “I love you. A part of me has loved you from the moment you danced with me at the lake, that first night. I’ve never stopped loving you since.”

His entire body goes still, his entire frame unmoving and stiff, breath held hostage in his lungs and his obvious struggle in front of her prompts more words from her.

“You asked me why I kept going back to him all these times and I never could give you a clear answer.” She whispers, both hands now cradling his face. “I’ve never met a man like you before, Blake. I never knew what it was like to love someone so deeply and be loved in return so selflessly. It never felt safe to let myself get acquainted with that kind of love, as it was way too good for me. At least Gavin’s love was consistently bad. But _yours_? I didn’t think I could handle losing a love like yours.”

Blake’s gaze is unwavering as it focuses on her solely, unable to do anything else but stare at her.

“And I understand if this comes way too late.” She begins to stammer, doing her best to revoke some of the raging nerves that come with his stunned silence. “I’m not trying to…. you just asked for clarity so many times and that is the one thing I just really want to give you now. I want to show you I’m serious, and— “

“ _Gwen_.” He interrupts softly, snapping out of his stillness and using the head of the couch to push himself a bit more upright, yet she makes no move to let go, instead she moves closer.

The hammering of his heart intensifies, thundering through his ribcage when Gwen’s hands drape along his cheeks, palms cradling his jaw as her body leans in. The sensation of the heat of her breath staining his lips is intoxicating in its own, no matter how many times he’s had the pleasure of feeling it. His mind goes blissfully blank when her mouth touches his.

For a moment, the gentle pressure of her lips over his and the heat of her fingertips on his skin is all there is. It’s so soft and tentative almost, stealing his breath in a completely different way.

Blake’s hands rise to her waist, sinewy muscles and sharp bones beneath his palms, soft curves and the arch of her spine when his hands travel higher. Gwen’s lips part for breath for a few seconds, her forehead resting on his. He can’t get himself to stop now though, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue inside the cove of her mouth, his chest fluttering when he recognizes the sound of her moan invading his ears.

She pushes herself even closer and lowers herself so she’s in the position to straddle him, Blake’s hands squeezing her hip through the thin layer of her leggings. She’s half in his lap, her knees on each side of his thighs, her arms around his neck and her chest grazing his.

“I promise you I’m done running, Blake.” She says hoarsely, her fingers in his hair. “I mean it, I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already have.”

Blake softens his hold on her, his arms banding around her in an embrace, coaxing her body to collapse against his chest as she folds in against him.

“I’m not good at this, Gwen.” He whispers against her hair, his fingers running up and down her spine. “I’m hurt, I’m confused, I can’t seem to make people stay….”

A breathless noise leaves her lips, something between a sob and a whimper. “That wasn’t your fault, Blake. You can’t make people stay who don’t want to stay—no matter how great you are.”

With her hands still tangled in his hair, she drags his mouth back to hers, slow and gentle. He feels her pressing kisses that taste of gratitude and yearning to his lips, her tongue caressing his in the most beautiful of ways.

“I’m so lucky to have been loved by you.” She whispers in between kisses, her nails scratching lightly at his scalp.

“Gwen…”

His eyes close tightly when she decides to grind on his lap once, her kisses now descending towards his jaw and throat.

“Please tell me, Blake.”

He swallows loudly, a soft moan escaping his lips as she sucks along the skin below his ear.

“I don’t know if— “

Quieting him with her mouth once more, Gwen steals his words, leaving his mind empty with the fit of her lips and touch of her tongue only.

“I don’t want you to stop kissing me.” She mumbles, and he thinks it might be the most wonderful thing he’s ever heard her say. “I don’t want you to stop loving me.”

Part of him fears that she’ll feel different in the morning, the adrenaline of showing up at his doorstep and the heartbreak from her current divorce taking the upper hand right now.

Yet, there’s something about her voice that sounds almost too sure, too confident.

“Tell me.” She whispers, lips brushing his as she traces the shell of his ear with delicate fingers. “Please tell me.”

Blake dust his lips along the bone of her cheek, suddenly tasting salt of her tears on her skin, his final restraint dissolving as he speaks the words against her temple—soft, but certain.

“I love you, Gwen. Never stopped.”

The trembling of her body that comes with his gentle admission makes him hold on to her even tighter, keeping her together as his words take her apart. He moves back so he can look at her face, pulling her closer after a few seconds.

He kisses her roughly then, siphoning every secret from her lips with the slant of his mouth, the ardent stroke of his tongue inside the temple of her mouth—letting her know he worships her, has _always_ worshipped her. He thinks he hears her murmur apologies along with the moans that stream from her lips, but he doesn’t want to hear them. Instead, he silences her by picking up the intensity of his lips on hers, wanting nothing but the outpour of love to surround them.

“I wanted to keep calling, keep in contact…” He forces out in between kisses, wanting that information out there badly. “I didn’t know how I could be in your life without crossing all boundaries, without being with you like _that_. Maybe I was a little scared too, y’know, just like you.”

“ _Was_.” She emphasises suddenly, pulling away as her palms cup his nape. “I’m not scared anymore. I’ve wasted enough time.”

“Guess we’ve both wasted quite some time.” He chuckles, his chest expanding against hers, his heartbeat still raging too fast for him to keep up with it. “You still scare me, Gwen.”

Her thumbs stroke along the drumbeat of his pulse.

“It’s mutual. I promise you, Blake.”

A choked laugh escapes his mouth, falls against her lips and coaxes them into a smile. “How would we even do this?”

“Slowly.” She mumbles, her eyes flickering back to his mouth and he feels four years’ worth of need rushing to the surface all at once. “We both need to heal—I get that. I just hope we can do that together.”

There’s still fear that settles against his chest, but there’s also tentative hope blooming through his body, nerves and eager desire climbing his ribcage.

“What about Gavin?”

He can’t help but ask and he breathes in relief when she smiles sweetly, instead of growing agitated at him bringing him up.

“We’re getting a divorce, it’s over.” The words still sound a bit pained, her smile growing a bit bitter. “We have Kingston together so he’ll be in my life still, though.”

He nods. “Did he pick up Kingston tonight?”

She shakes her head, her smile turning more genuine again. “He’s at home with the nanny. I just…. I had to come see you.”

Her words surprise him; everything about tonight has surprised him. He smiles weakly at the realization of how badly she wanted to see him, his fingers tightening at each side of her hips.

“You want me?”

Energy seems to explode through her system, her body shifting on top of him as she stretches a bit, her face hovering over his again.

“So, so much.”

Her mouth opens on a gasp when he opens his mouth at her clavicle, raking his teeth along the sharp ridge of bone. His nose nudges her shirt out of the way a bit, his lips trailing along the slope of her breast, but there’s too much fabric obstructing the work of his mouth.

He pulls back just enough for his hands to slide beneath the fabric of her shirt, her hips bucking into him as he palms her left breast. He sides his other hand beneath her bra to squeeze her flesh, tending to her nipple with his thumb.

She grinds down hard on top of him suddenly, needing the friction desperately. He lets the dirty gyration of her hips continue for a while as he still palms at her breast, winding her up quickly and deliberately.

“Blake, we should—” She chokes on her words when he lowers his lips to her neck, sucking a mark on the skin there, but he hears her regardless. He knows she’s right too.

He doesn’t want this to end yet, he doesn’t want to stop urging these grinds from her.

If anything, he wants to burry himself inside her right here, hearing her smother her sobs into his shoulder as she tries to breathe past the intense waves of pleasure he ignites within her.

“Fuck it.” She breathes, apparently ready to throw her own rational reasoning out of the window, just needing more of him. Much more.

He chuckles against the crook of her neck, reluctantly pulling back while his hand comes up to cradle the side of her face. She looks more divine than ever; her lips swollen and red, a distinctive flush colouring her features and her breathing ragged and uneven.

“We shouldn’t.” He whispers lowly, grinning a little when she starts pouting. “Not like this.”

She leans into his palm, breathing loudly. “I don’t want to stop.”

He chuckles. “Baby, you can’t even stay over cause you have Kingston to go back to. I’m still a bit tipsy and one hundred percent overwhelmed by all of this. I don’t want to go there with you like that.”

She smiles mischievously at him, sliding both arms around his neck as she pushes herself flush against him.

“How _do_ you want to go there?”

He places another soft kiss on her lips, sliding down to press the second one against her cheek, the third and fourth placed randomly across her face until she’s panting again.

“I want you to be able to stay over so I can take my time with you. And I want to be sober for it so I’m sure I won’t forget the way you look when I make you come again.”

She moans lowly, satisfied with his answer but also realizing she just allowed him to tease her even more.

“I want that.” She murmurs against his cheek.

“We _deserve_ that.” He retorts.

Familiar sparks sizzle behind her eyes as his mouth travels down to her neck, relearning the sensitive spot behind her ear that has her biting down on her bottom lip, and the patch of skin just below her jaw that never fails to evoke a gasp. His hands stroke along her sides, teasing and unsatisfying, and when Gwen grinds her hips down again as a sign of impatience, he finally stops.

“You’re the worst tease.”

“But you love it.”

She looks at him then, desperate for something that entails more than sex, and it sparks shivers down his spine.

“I love you.”


	20. Chapter 20

_November, 2014_

 

 

“This is something I’ve thought about a lot.”

She holds his hand the whole time, and he’s grateful for the support—literally. He’s thought about her so much throughout the years; about their conversations, their fights, their happiest moments, but he never dared to dream she remembered _this_.

He knew when she texted him she wouldn’t get Kingston back until after dinner tonight, that she was up to something—not usually updating him about her custody arrangement. When she came down to his place to drag him out of bed, on their free day, he knew that whatever it was meant a great deal to her.

The car had come to a sudden stop and it didn’t take him long to recognize his surroundings, the air rushing out of his lungs at the memories attached to it. When she brushes against him while still holding his hand steady in hers, it almost feels like a dream. The familiarity of the large rehearsal space heats his entire body with a warmth he’s only ever experienced in Gwen’s presence.

“Gwen…” He breathes, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you remembered.”

She waits until they’re both inside to turn around and walk into his arms, her cheek against his chest. His breaths are heavy suddenly and his lips are only inches from the flesh of her neck when she speaks.

“I could never forget, Blake.” She whispers, holding on to him. “It’s one of the happiest moments of my life.”

He can’t take the vulnerability in her voice, despite the beauty of her words, and he prevents her from uttering another word with his lips on her neck.

The hitch of her breathing is apparent and her hand immediately finds its way onto the back of his neck. His lips continue to place feather-like touches to her skin, until she begins wiggling out of his grip.

She laughs quietly when she takes notice of his disappointed eyes. “As good as that felt, it’s not why I brought you here.”

He smiles. “You didn’t bring me here to hook up? Shocker.”

She rolls her eyes but he knows she loves it when he gets playful with her, the smile on her lips telling him as much.

“You’re funny, but no…” She trails off, leading him to the next room. He recognizes the smaller lounge area immediately and when she nods towards the guitar already laying ready for him on the couch, he’s unsure if he’s still breathing.

Her words ending up to be the final nail in his coffin. “I brought you here to sing with me.”

His eyes connect with hers once more in astonishment. He’s missed her hunkering for romance and her never-ending appreciation for sentiment—all of it hitting him with a vengeance. He turns her so she’s facing him again, the realization glimmering in his clear blue eyes.

“I remember not knowing how I ended up here with you that first time….” His hand reaches for her cheek as he lets his thumb stroke her chin. “And I still feel the same way now.”

In response, she wraps her arms around his neck and leans her head against his shoulder, breathing him in and feeling something they’d never been allowed to before.

“I love you so much.” Her voice slivers its way inside of him and it makes him want to hold on to her forever, and he’s determined to do so. “Sing with me?”

He pulls back slightly, holding his hand out for her to take. “My pleasure.”

She smiles so brightly, it reminds him of how truly joyous the little things were to her, how appreciative she was of his support and how much she just loves music. He carefully picks up the guitar from the couch, looking up at her smirking.

“This just happened to be in here?”

She shrugs, biting her lip. “I may have come in here before picking you up—making sure it would be perfect and all.”

He wants to play with her some more, but he suddenly feels compelled to let her know everything already is. Perfect.

“You’re amazing, Gwen.” He looks at her before sitting down next to her, the Gibson on his lap. “ _This_ is amazing—thank you.”

She pats his knee indicating she wants him to start playing the guitar, and he can’t help but chuckle. It’s almost endearing to find out she’s still as bad with compliments as when they were last together—her impatience also seem so to be still fully intact.

“What song?” He asks as his finger strum the delicate instrument a few times.

She looks at him almost offensively and he squints his eyes at her.

“The same one we played back then.” She says matter of factly, and he realizes right then and there that it was something he should’ve known.

“You’re blowing my mind, Gwen Stefani.”

“Start playing.”

He starts playing the beginning chords of the Stevie Nick’s song, his heart beating against his ribcage as he anticipates the moment she comes in with the vocals.

When her voice mixes perfectly with the chords he’s playing, his mind forgets about the last nine years and it’s impossible to remember a time without her. His body shifts closer to her, smiling when her small hand slides across his thigh and settles there.

He remembers how he had to lead her through the song the first time they did this, losing the tempo every now and then, and her chaotic mind forgetting when to come in for the next line, but none of that is the case this time. If anything, she leads _him_.

Her voice is still as insanely emotional as he remembers it though, being completely mesmerized and drawn in, feeling both the longing and pain as she sings these words so perfectly.

Their eyes catch right before she’s about to go into the second verse, hers shining with a bit of mischief and a small delicate smile on her lips. She’s as beautiful as ever and he imagines he’ll still look at her the same way when he’s eighty, because there’s no way he’s ever letting her go again.

He fumbles a chord when her slim hand reaches out for his face, not missing a word—or a vocal.

Her fingers glide from behind his neck and onto his warm cheek, her palm grazing the stubble of hair lining his rough jaw. Between her soft explorative touches and her sweet voice accompanying his guitar, he wonders if she’s aware of how much she’s healing him.

Her touch is soft yet decisive as she guides him through one universe into the next.

The song has come to an end now, but his guitar is still in his hands and hers are still on his face. It’s a moment he’s only ever read about, or seen in romantic moves, maybe even dared to dream it a few times. But when her lips suddenly linger against the underside of his jaw, he knows there’s nothing that could ever compare to this.

Knowing what she’s going for, he gently moves the instrument out of the way, making sure it leans stable against the side of the couch. He smiles when she immediately takes the opportunity to straddle him, her mouth moving down the column of his neck.

“ _Jesus Christ_.” His breath catches, his large palm on her lower back.

She nuzzles in the crook of his neck, lingering there for a few moments without actually doing anything. He grips her tighter in his arms as they hold each other tightly—healing their hearts in a place where it all started, working through a whirlwind of emotions.

“ _Maybe it’s time to broaden your horizon….”_

Her whispered words make him raise his brows.

“What?”

“It’s what you told me that first night on your tailgate…” She looks up at him with shiny eyes, her hands sliding up the expanse of his chest. “To broaden my horizon.”

“I always knew you were supposed to be mine.” He whispers after a while, hope lingering in his crystalline. “I don’t think I ever stopped feeling that way either—I just felt like we couldn’t get the timing right.”

She swallows roughly as she nods, pulling herself closer to him again. “And now we’re back here and nothing feels more right.”

As he holds her this close and her sweet words fill his ears, it suddenly all makes sense that it happened the way it did.

“You told me you wanted to step off stage knowing something good was awaiting you there, and I’ve never stopped wanting to be that ‘something good’ for you, Gwen.”

Her soft sob vibrates against his shoulder and he leans down to whisper soft words into her ear, tells her he doesn’t want to hear anymore apologies. She’s never needed to ask for his forgiveness, for her simple existence has been his source of life from the moment their eyes connected in that small Nashville venue.

She pulls back slightly after a while, her eyes raking over his facial features.

“Aside from Kingston, you’ve been the best thing in my life from the moment you came into it. I know that’s probably hard to believe after— “

“—I believe you.”

He can see the surprise written over her face, leaning closer to him in that moment as she presses their foreheads together. He can tell she’s getting emotional again, her eyes welling up.

“I’m gonna take it back if you start crying though.” He jokes softly, nudging her.

She laughs through her tears, hiding her face into his neck. “Don’t you dare cowboy.”

Despite his earlier words, he still rocks her back and forth, his hand rubbing slowly on her back. He’s never known a person more in tune with her emotions than Gwen, and he will never be the one to seriously tell her to tone that down. He can feel when the mood shifts though, her mouth nipping at the skin of his neck again and her hand wandering to his cheek.

It’s surreal how her touch has every nerve in his body and brain electrified. It’s that anticipation of being with her in a way that’s more than words, in a way that’s so completely tangible.

When she starts moving in his lap, purposefully maximizing his discomfort, he lets his head lean back a little.

“Gwen, baby, you gotta….”

She moves her lips from his neck to his mouth, taking his lips between her teeth.

“You want me to stop?” She asks before kissing down his jaw.

His eyes fall closed as she deliberately makes his head spin with her randomly placed kisses, letting her lips move from his jaw to his ear, taking the lobe between her teeth. His hand slides into her hair gently, tangling in the strands as he coaxes her to ease back a little.

“What if someone comes in here?” He asks lowly, his voice hoarse from the way she’s been affecting him.

“No one is gonna come in here.” She smiles against his lips. “I checked the schedule before coming here, and we have the whole day to ourselves.”

He’s got her flipped onto her back in a matter of seconds, hovering above her. Her self-satisfied chuckle makes him shake his head before claiming her lips for a scorching kiss. His mouth presses to hers as his tongue strokes past the seam of her lips. After a while her body starts instinctively bucking up against him, and clothes get shed in record time.

He’ll never take the way she clings to him for granted again, moving down to her chest and placing kisses there until she’s shuddering beneath him. He hears her soft pleas coming from her plump lips, but he doesn’t act on them. Instead, he sucks red marks on her neck and smiles at her obvious desperation.

“I need you, Blake.” She whispers brokenly.

Blake smirks and looks up at her, his naked chest sliding up until he reaches her mouth. They make out until he’s sure her acrylic nails have left marks on his naked back from gripping him so hard, and his lips are bruised from the passion in which she responds to his kisses. He moves back a little to position himself at her entrance, pushing in slowly. She moans brokenly at the intrusion, pushing him down more firmly on top of her.

The way she trashes beneath him whenever he angles himself _just_ right, makes for the most beautiful sight. He picks up speed gradually, and smiles when she forces his face down to meet her for a kiss. Their tongues battle for dominance all the while she lets out the prettiest moans against his lips. His hips don’t still for a moment, overloading her with the pleasure he never wants to stop giving her.

When her back starts to arch, Blake brings his focus back to her face, his hand loosely gripping her throat to prevent her from turning away from him.

“You’re so beautiful just like this, baby.” He murmurs lowly against the shell of her ear. “Let me see you when you come. I want to see you.”

They move together in unison, each forward movement sending heat coursing through his legs, his hips, his chest—nothing has ever quite felt like this.

He holds her tightly, for he knows that she’s on the edge of shattering all together, his lips curving into a small smile as she lets out small grunts that sound like dirty words.

He looks down at her from above and notices her eyes staring back at him, mouth agape and fingers now digging into his upper arms. With her hair sprawled out on the sides of her head, her soft whimpers pleading for him to let her come, it’s all nearly too much.

"Fuck.” He breathes, feeling a new, hot slickness surround him. "Yes, baby, that’s it."

It’s only a few more seconds before she lets go, screaming his name as she does. Her body convulses beneath him and he can’t do anything but groan at the intensity of her orgasm. She bucks her hips up at him rapidly and he pushes down on her in response, relishing in the small whimpers and grunts leaving her lips.

His own orgasm comes quickly after that, nuzzling her neck as he tastes her now damp skin. He loses his rhythm as he tries to keep himself up, groaning as he finds his release inside the gorgeous woman he can finally call his again.

“Jesus.” He groans, trying to regain his breath.

She laughs breathlessly as she holds onto him, his weight pressing down on her slightly. He slides out of her reluctantly, not letting much space get in-between them yet. He smiles when her arms continue to hold on to him, even after the pleasure seriously weakened the strength of her limbs.

“How are you _this_ good at everything?” She asks after a few minutes of silence, their breathing slowly starting to come down.

He nudges her so they can shift positions, him laying underneath her now while he pushes her frame down onto him completely. She lowers her head to his shoulder, their legs intertwined.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He answers eventually.

"Shit, if that's anything like what you and Mir— “

"Before you even say it.” He cuts her off quickly. “It’s never been like this with anyone else.”

"So with her you were, _what_ , boring?"

She blinks up at him, grinning, running a fingertip up and down the middle of his chest. Despite her playful demeanour, he can tell there’s also an underlying nervousness there as she brings up his ex.

“Not necessarily.” He answers softly, rubbing her shoulder as he pushes her closer against him. “Just different.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to— “

“—Everything was different with you, you know that.”

He usually doesn’t like to cut her off, especially not when she’s showing her insecurities to him, but things have always been more intense with her and he can’t help but feel like she knows; it’s why she ran from him in the first place.

“I _do_ know.” She whispers, her hand stilling on his chest. “You know in all that time I was with Gavin, we never once danced together like we did that first day or spent hours talking without it ending sexually.”

He can tell by the sudden lowering of her voice that the admission spilling off her lips is making her emotional and he doesn’t find it hard to understand why.

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Maybe I had it coming though, y’know?” She smiles up at him sweetly from where her head is pressed against his shoulder. “You gave me all that and I still ran from you, hurt you…. I don’t know, I thought about it a lot after you were gone. The universe granted me a gift to see if I would take care of it, and I didn’t. My punishment was having to settle for a love that would never compare.”

His heart breaks at her words, his lips skimming the side of her face.

“You are the best thing that ever happened to me Gwen, and I let you walk away without much of a fight. I think a part of me always knew you’d walk away from me at some point….” He sighs deeply, continuing despite Gwen’s pained expression. “And instead of fighting it, I _waited_ for it. Thinking that when the day would come, it would be for the best. I didn’t realize until it was way too late, just how wrong I was.”

Her silence makes him grow slightly worried and when she breaks it with a soft chuckle, he finds himself absolutely clueless.

“God.” She sniffs. “How could two people who were obviously meant to be, literally do _everything_ wrong?”

He laughs quietly.

“Not everything.”

Gwen pins her bottom lip between her teeth, emotion causing her to bury her face deeper into his shoulder.

Her soft but steady voice comes only a few seconds later.

“Not everything.”

 

 

*

 

 

_January, 2015_

 

He’s noticed Kingston’s fascination with watching him shave just a few weeks ago. It’s still a weird thing to realize he’s somewhat of a parental figure in this kid’s live now, the things he does now noticed by a little rascal who either mimics or judges his moves. He loves every moment of it, even when the boy prevents him from doing the most basic necessities, like in this moment.

Kingston had started crying around seven in the morning, to which Gwen had reacted quickly by pulling on her robe and carrying the three-year old back into their room. Blake had managed at sitting upright against the headboard by the time she carried the little guy in, any more rest long forgotten. After an hour of cuddling and small talk, trying to cheer King up, she’d offered to start on some breakfast and make them both a much-needed cup of coffee.

He’d brought the young boy with him to the bathroom, cleaning up his face from all the tears that had stained it and simultaneously trying to tend to himself—which proved to be too much of a task.

The toddler is sitting at his feet, playing with one of Gwen’s expensive shower gels—and how the hell did he get his hands on that so fast?

He makes a quick decision that he’ll apologize to Gwen later, for now he’s just happy the kid is distracted. The razor has barely been lifted towards his face when karma seems to be out for him, and Kingston starts tugging at his leg.

“Up Blakey, UP!”

He chuckles in the mirror, rolling his eyes.

“Give me a second, buddy. I’m just gonna finish up with this and then I’ll carry you downstairs to get you something to eat.”

He tries again to find his focus and continue with the task at hand, but it proves to be a futile attempt immediately. Kingston is back to clinging onto his legs, the kid having surprising strength.

“Do you want me to look like a mountain man?” Blake huffs jokingly when he has to lower the razor again. “Your mom won’t be happy if you don’t let me get to this, bud.”

“Blakey please, I wanna see.”

Blake drops the razor in the bathroom sink, before hoisting the boy up to perch in front of him on the sink, secured by his body. He squeezes a small amount of shaving gel into his palm, lathering it up between his hand as he watches Kingston’s excitement grow.

“Don’t touch mommy’s stuff.” Blake warns gently. “If you grab anything I’m putting you back down, okay?”

Kingston nods quickly, clapping his hands. “I wanna help! Let me help, Blakey.”

Apparently, he’s not interested in touching any more of Gwen’s expensive creams and gels, as his eyes are fixated on the foam in Blake’s hands.

He holds out his palm, letting King dip his tiny fingers into the fluff of cream consuming his hands. He can’t help grinning when the small child paints his fingertips to Blake’s cheeks, his wide smile feeling like it’s coming from a place so deep within he doesn’t even know what to describe it as.

It isn’t long before Kingston becomes a little over zealous in his face painting, managing to scoop larger amounts from Blake’s palm and transferring it to the side of Blake’s neck with quick slaps that have the white cream exploding between them.

Blake gasps for dramatic effect and basks in the giggles coming from the young child.

“I think that’s enough, buddy. Thank you.” Blake smiles.

Kingston’s eyes cast down to his small hands, some of the shaving gel still on his fingers and Blake moves before the toddler can think of doing anything. Blake gently takes a hold of his hand, scooping up the remnants of cream there before stroking his index finger down the kid’s nose. He watches the boy’s eyes attempt to cross, trying to see the scoop of shaving cream now decorating the tip of his nose.

The toddler erupts with laughter, nearly trembling with amusement. Blake can’t stay behind, despite not having gotten anywhere with his attempt to actually shave his own face.

And that’s how Gwen finds them.

“I knew I heard you two in here.” She chuckles, meeting his eyes in the mirror with the amusement shimmering in hers. “What on Earth are you guys doing?”

“Well I _thought_ he could help me shave.” Blake chuckles, shaking his head. “I think he’s more interested in keeping me from it, though.”

“You should’ve learned by now he just likes to help you make a mess of things.” She jokes, drifting into the bathroom and placing her hands at Blake’s waist.

“I told him he needed to help me shave to keep you happy.” He winks, feeling her smile against the back of his arm.

“I like the extra stubble actually.” She replies, her a voice a husky sound that sends heat down his spine.

He’s glad she’s not giving him enough time to come up with an answer, nothing laying on the tip of his tongue appropriate for the little three-year-old still caught in between the vanity and his legs.

“Finish this another time.” She smirks, coming around his side as she ruffles her son’s hair.

Blake’s eyes flicker down to meet hers, a tender smile twitching on his lips.

“Why?”

“Because I want you to wash that stuff off your face—both your faces—so I can kiss you.” She murmurs in response, already ducking forward to blow a kiss against Kingston’s cheek, earning a delighted giggle from the boy.

Everything is chaos lately, his mornings now looking like this more often, since the kid seems to be spending time with his father about once a month—if that.

He’s never known how much he was missing by running from the idea of a family of his own, subconsciously always having known there was only one woman he wanted that with.

His heart feels like it grows twice its size at the realization that he’s the closest he’s ever been to that perfect image in his head.

“Anything you say, ma’am.”

Gwen smiles at his response and _yeah_ , this must be what blue skies feel like.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another story finished....Thank you guys for still rocking with me and still giving a damn about what I write. This story has been particularly hard to craft out--and some of you might not have liked this one every step of the way, but I hope this ending is one that satisfies regardless. I appreciate all the comments and feedback, I'm super grateful I started writing for such a loving fandom. I told you Blake and Gwen would get their happy ending, and I think they both got it ;)
> 
> Thank God for blue skies..


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